Saxon Ruled Britain Self Inserts Ruled the TARDIS
by Sara Eleanor Rose
Summary: The full title is, "While Saxon Ruled Britain, Self Insertion Ruled the TARDIS," which pretty much says it all. It's all in good fun, and gets better as it goes. Another genre could be drama. T for scariness. Co-written by Zoe Alice Latimer.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: At the time this story takes place, everything through "The Big Bang" has aired. Our characters will reference Series One through Five, as well as a bit of Classic Doctor Who.

If you don't like the first chapter, just stick with us a little longer: we develop as the story goes on.

We don't own Doctor Who in novel, episode, or soundtrack form. We don't own any piece of popular culture referred or alluded to (including but not limited to David Tennant, Lord of the Rings, Wicked, Lewis Carroll, Pippi Longstocking, or the Bible).

Author key (EXTREMELY IMPORTANT):

_Italics is Grace Anscombe's perspective (Zoe Alice Latimer) _

Normal (vaguely) is Tegan Young's perspective (Sara Eleanor Rose)

* * *

_Let me tell you something._

Never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, _**ever**_ wish for excitement. Trust me, just don't. Ever.

_Under any circumstances. You think your life is boring? Good for you! Lucky._

Don't get me wrong, some excitement is fine. Like when somebody brings you cake unexpectedly. That's excitement I could live with. Or when your favorite actor makes a guest appearance on a TV show you love. I get excited when that happens. Doesn't everyone? Well, you should.

_Or when you finally find the courage to tell your true love you, well, love her, and she actually loves you back._

Or him. Didn't mean to exclude anyone there. But my point is, some excitement is good. Just…not the kind of excitement we seem to keep experiencing. Stupid Doctor. Well, that's not fair, it's not his fault. Okay, a little. Well...anyway.

_It really shouldn't have happened in the first place. It's all a bit timey-wimey, really. I mean, the episodes air, and three years later, they happen. Or maybe they haven't happened yet._

That's the problem with time travel: you can never be sure whether you're remembering the past or the future. Very impractical, in my opinion. My humble, yet pompous, opinion.

_Speak for yourself._

Hush, you.

_You've already spoken twice as much as I have. Not fair. I was just as involved as you._

Yes, but I have such a way with words. Anyway, it all started when I got a Facebook page and decided, "Hey, it might be fun to find somebody called Harold Saxon and harass him!" Brilliant idea, right?

_Ah, you have such a way with brains!_

And again, hush you!

_I'm merely agreeing with you._

Can't you agree with me in a way that isn't belittling me?

_Oh, you used _belittling_. I'm gonna have a field day with that!_

I meant, belittling my character! Blimey, why've you got to take everything so literally?You know what? Never mind. We're getting off track. Perhaps our readers would appreciate it if we actually explained ourselves. We apologize; we've been with the Doctor for so long that we've picked up his habit of speaking for hours and saying nothing at all.

_So to recap, Tegan—_

Not Jovanka, in case you were wondering.

—_had a brilliant streak and harassed someone calling himself Harold Saxon. _

Well, I couldn't help myself! His page was listed under "government official," and he started posting about the Lazarus Project!

_We didn't know Doctor Who is real. At the time, anyway. And it was after Saxon responded to her messages that we heard the TARDIS._

Well, of course we did what any fan would do. We went running outside to find it! Grace, of course, was hollering, "Doctor!" I had a little more decorum than that. I smacked a hand over Grace's BIIIG mouth and uttered my catchphrase: "Hush, you." I walked up to the TARDIS, trying to think how best to get inside. And it hit me.

"There's a key."

"What?" Grace came running up behind me.

"There's a key in one of those _P_'s up there."

"No way," she said with an almost manic smile.

Because the TARDIS is taller than we are, we realized getting the key would have to be a team effort.

The key turned out to be a great deal like the One Ring, as we promptly double-crossed each other, fighting tooth and nail for possession.

We fought evenly for a few moments, grunting and laughing (this was not a malicious fight, after all), then I distracted Grace with the old "Look! There's the Doctor" ploy, which she fell for—

_May I say, gloriously. Ever the gracious winner, Tegan shouted, "Advantage Tegan!" and I glomped her legs. She fell, and that's how I got the TARDIS key._

It is not. You know perfectly well I tripped you.

_Aw, always spoil my fun! Boycott the Salvation Army, you would. So, I admit, Tegan unlocked the TARDIS door first. But even though she had a key, the TARDIS had to let her in, and the amazing thing, __considering who asked, __is that she did. _

_Now that the power struggle was over, I behaved myself and walked into the doorway. Then, getting an idea, I froze. __"Wait, wait, wait! Tegan, this is something I've always wanted to do!"_

_I wrapped one arm around the outside of the TARDIS. I reached the other inside and stretched along the inside wall—my arm straight as could be—_and my fingertips touched air.

_"Um, Grace..." said Tegan from inside the doorway._

_"It's so big inside!" I said, finally coming around, and I noticed the Doctor hovering over the console and looking over his shoulder at us, as if he had just landed and was trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. "Oh."_

_"Wot?" said the Doctor._

_"Oh, Tegs, he's doing the—"_

_"_Wot?"

_"Are we shorter than usual, or is it bigger than TV?"_

_"WOT?"_

_Tegan stumbled back into me and I caught her in a hug. "It's actually him!" she breathed. "Do we know the Doctor?"_

_I looked at the Tenth Doctor—and surprisingly Martha, glancing from the monitor to us to the monitor and back—staring at us staring at him staring at us. We hope you get the idea. "I don't suppose we do."_

"_Well! We don't know you…but this room appears to be bigger on the inside, and it catches the eye! Help me, Grace." Tegan muttered this last bit._

"_You help me! I feel the need to applaud!" And I did._

"_Oh, not Torchwood at all then," Tegan scoffed._

_The Doctor, probably smelling a rat because the last time he was applauded was Canary Wharf, was not amused. "Martha, have you seen these people before?"_

"_Never in all my life. I don't even think they're British."_

_They both stood upright, the Doctor taking a few steps toward us with narrowed eyes. _(Tegan: I know I'm going to get flamed by Tennant fan girls, but as brilliant an actor as he is, he didn't come close to matching the intensity of the real Doctor's eyes.) _"Who. Are. You?"_

_Tegan, shaking in her boots, er, Converse, spoke first. "I-I'm T-Tegan."_

_The Doctor raised an eyebrow, which made me want to clap once more. "Not Jovanka, is it?" _

"_Why?" she said, trying to sound clueless. "Who's Jovanka?"_

_Typically unabashed, I interrupted, "My name is really _Ga_race, but since no one remembers that, I just call myself Grace with a silent _Guh_."_

_He almost—almost seemed to smile. "Is that '_Ga_race' like '_Ga_linda'?"_

"_Tegan, the Doctor knows Wicked—" _

"_Shut up, Grace," Tegan said in sing-song._

_And just like that, his smile was gone. "Where are we and how did you get in my ship?"_

"_It landed in her backyard and we wanted to know what it was," I said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Why _is _your—um, ship, did you say?"_

"_Right, TARDIS."_

"—_bigger on the inside?"_

"_It's a time machine too," interjected Martha. _

"_Oh, the subtle approach, nice," said the Doctor, rubbing his eye with one finger. _

"_Well, we did land in their backyard."_

"_Oh, so you could go anywhere!" I gave Tegan a knowing nod._ He's with Martha… so, when?_ "Where've you been recently?"_

_The Doctor and Martha turned to each other, talking at once. _

"_Oh, 1913…" said Martha._

"_Aw, he's already met Tim? I wanted to hear Tim's speech! I love—"_

"_Hush, you!" from, of course, Tegan. _

_Over us the Doctor said, "There was the Red Hatching—lovely, the Hatching—and then we got stuck in 1969—"_

"_Hold on, hold on," Martha interrupted. "Really, 'lovely the Hatching'? We weren't bringing the bows and arrows as baby gifts!"_

_Tegan yanked me aside. Presumably, the Doctor and Martha were too busy arguing (about whether or not the Doctor had _intended_ his baby gift to offend something called the Redcall Birddragon) to notice our conversation. _

"_Tegan, that means…"_

"_Right," I sighed with relief. "We've missed the Weeping Angels."_

_She shook her head in disbelief. "Well yes, but more importantly, Saxon! Saxon is still going to happen!"_

_She shuddered, terror in her eyes. _She always did find him the worst, _I thought, wishing God had given me half the sense He gave squashed pumpkin. _

"_Teg, it's real," I whispered. "What are we going to do?"_

"_It's coming," Tegan told me, equally quiet. "The Year is coming, and we should have known. We even have a President Winters elected; how thick can we be? So… we want to be with him when it happens."_

Can I just point out to all of you who are snickering, "What a stupid, cheesy thing to say," that normally I would agree. But everything changes when the Doctor is real. And for that matter, everything changes when the Master is real.

"All right," Grace said, trying to analyze this coolly, as she always does when standing in the TARDIS meeting the Doctor. "Let's beg him on hand and knee!"

"Are you two all right?" the Doctor said, suddenly behind us.

Grace automatically dropped to her knees, Oliver Twist style. "Please, sir…"

I grabbed her by the arms. "Getupgetupgetup!" I hissed. As you read, you'll notice that in our exuberance, we blended words a lot. A lot.

"Can we come with you?" she asked sheepishly.

The Doctor didn't quite warm to the idea. "Ah, well, um, I don't—I don't think, um—there's not room."

We leaned apart to peek around him in different directions at the TARDIS. We stood upright, exchanged genuinely confused glances, and gave him puppy eyes.

"I understand," Grace said with a pathetic sniffle, starting to turn away. "It's like the Mad Hatter's table."

The Doctor, understanding that Grace was being sarcastic, continued fumbling around for an excuse. "Well, it's just—that—you're too young."

"You don't even know how old we are!" I protested.

He sighed and pointed at Grace. "Fifteen." His finger slid toward me. "Fourteen."

"Ha!" I burst out. "Sixteen. Completely different."

He looked at me strangely. "Really?"

"Oh shut up," I grumbled.

Grace was laughing delightedly.

"Okay, so you do know our ages. Haven't you ever traveled with people our ages?"

That, you have to admit, was a stroke of brilliance. Shutting him up without blowing our cover.

"Doctor, the TARDIS let them in," Martha said.

"That's right, she did," I said, nonchalantly, dropping the TARDIS key in the grass behind us, where only a hungry rabbit, or perhaps a lawn mower, could find it.

The Doctor groaned quietly. "There is that. Well, I suppose…"

He noticed us getting excited 'cause we could tell where this was going. "Hold on! You get one guaranteed trip, then we'll talk."

We did try to look somewhat disappointed, as if we had no idea that was code for, "You have become warts. I'll never be able to get rid of you."

Unless we did something really stupid, like Grace was about to do.

"Can you take us to Barcelona?"

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know about Barcelona?"

She got a panicked look on her face. "Um, it's a very famous city on—on Earth."

Fair play to Grace: that was a marvelous save. And the crazy thing is, despite our horrified expressions, the Doctor _bought _it!

"Well, yes, of course I could take you there...but I could also take you to a planet called Barcelona."

We tried very hard to look amazed.

"There's a planet? Really?" Grace pushed up her glasses by the bridge, avoiding eye contact.

"I've been meaning to go there anyway, so why not?" He leaped over to the console and pulled a lever that looked like it might've once been part of a bicycle. He gave us a mischievous look, raising an eyebrow, like he does. "Ever seen a dog with no nose?"

We both grinned excitedly.

The VWORP VWORP of the TARDIS never sounded so beautiful, for the entire five seconds it lasted before Martha said, "Doctor, just because you don't need to sleep doesn't mean I won't keel over." She did look exhausted, come to think of it. "We only got the TARDIS back from the Angels a few minutes ago. I _need_ to get some rest. Can we save dogs with no noses for morning?"

"Great, she's on London time," I muttered.

"It's only mid-afternoon for us," Grace said, looking disappointed that, despite all her trouble, the Barcelona plan had been thwarted.

"Then I suggest you stay up and think of a better cover story," the Doctor said.

Okay, not really. We did that on our own. And, technically, we weren't so much staying up late to think of a cover story as we were just trying to think of ways to ask our questions in order not to give ourselves away. What the Doctor really said was, "There's a spare room down that hall and to the left of the toilet. Don't make a mess; I hate housecleaning."

From somewhere, the TARDIS gave a bang of protest at being called a house. Did I mention how beautiful she sounds?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A/N: The upcoming chapters, until we say otherwise, are more or less based on the Doctor Who novel Wetworld by Mark Michalowski. You can quite easily read this even if you haven't read the novel—although it is worth the read.

REPEAT Author key:

_Italics is Grace Anscombe's perspective (Zoe Alice Latimer)_

Normal (vaguely) is Tegan Young's perspective (Sara Eleanor Rose)

_

* * *

_

_We sauntered into the console room (!) the next morning, or morning as we assumed it to be._

_No, that's wrong. We weren't sauntering—I approached with fear and trembling, since minutes before Tegan had given me a long, stern talk about when to keep my big mouth shut (most of the time, according to her). But as soon as I saw Martha Jones (!) leaning against the handrail that ran around the console, all my exuberance bubbled up again. I squeezed Tegan's hand._

_It took a little longer to locate the Doctor. He (!) was under the TARDIS grating, fiddling with something._

_"…croissants for breakfast," Martha was saying._

_"What about Barcelona?" I asked. "'Member, dogs with no noses?"_

_"Good morning," Martha said, which wasn't an answer, but Tegan politely returned it._

_I leaned over the rail, nearly tipping into the grating. "You too, Doctor."_

_"Mphmph," the Doctor said from beneath our feet through the sonic screwdriver (!) in his mouth. He maneuvered it with his tongue to say a word that vaguely resembled, "Recalibrating."_

_"That reminds you," Tegan said, elbowing me with a look that said, _"Get on with it already!" _After all our toil last night, we had finally come up with one question we thought wouldn't get us booted off the TARDIS before we'd even begun. But unfortunately we forgot that one and had to come up with another last minute._

Just because we know so much, _I thought with disgust_. That's not fair, is it?_  
__I cleared my dry throat, since Tegan had bullied me into being spokesperson. "So, flying the TARDIS."_

_The Doctor raised an eyebrow._

_"How? D-d-do you do it? The flying bit."_

_Tegan sighed at my stammering._

_Through the sonic screwdriver in his mouth, the Doctor said, "Mphhhpphh… mmm… mppppffhfhf."_

_Martha nodded wisely. "That's all very well and good, but it doesn't really answer her question, does it?" Her voice dropped. "You won't get an answer out of him."_  
_"Yeah, but it's at least worth a shot," I said, dropping to my knees to press my face against the floor. "I said—"_

_"I heard what you said!" snapped back the Doctor, yanking the sonic out of his mouth with a scowl. "But what you don't understand is—"_

_And he shoved it back between his teeth and mphphphed a bit more, this time with added emphasis. I stood up, studying things on the console I'd never noticed before._ How do a bicycle pump and a bubbly paperweight fly a time machine?

_"Well?" the Doctor said, suddenly in front me. He looked particularly cross. With any "real" companion I would have known he was just being, well, Doctorish, but since Tegan and I were only on trial I wasn't sure if he was actually irritated. He now had the sonic in his hand, his hair all ruffled and askew._

_It was amazing!_

_"Um… yeah," I replied, backing off a little in respect. "Probably."_

_"Good!"_

_Martha snorted as he raced past all three of us, giving the paperweight a delicate tweak. The TARDIS's song changed key slightly. Tegan joined me in following the Doctor like hounds, trying to memorize controls._

_"What about what I was saying?" Martha said cagily. Apparently we had put her on edge, but to her credit she hadn't taken it out on us._

_"Yes," he said, nodding firmly. "Croissants. For breakfast. Definitely. We'll pop over to Cannes and pick a—"_

_"Not the croissants," she interrupted._

_"No problem. Porridge is fine by me. Edinburgh—1807. Fine vintage."_

_"I think I have a pear in my pocket," I teased, deliberately lying for the Doctor's grimace of utter disgust. I must say the reaction was satisfying._

_Martha waved my comment aside. "I'm not talking about breakfast."_

_The Doctor jolted upright as if he'd received an electric shock. Tegan and I jumped because he did, and because his eyes were wide and manic, but Martha was unfazed._

_"You mean it's lunchtime?" The Doctor glanced at his watch, frowned, shook it, and then placed it to his ear._

_"If the TARDIS is outside time and space, why do you have a watch?" Tegan asked._

_"Not now," the Doctor said. "This is important! Why didn't you tell me? I mean, I can understand them—" he sniffed at his two stowaways—"but you're supposed to take care of me, Martha. I've been down there for _hours."

_"You've not been down there fifteen minutes yet." He opened his mouth to say something, but Martha clamped her hand over it. When she spoke, the forcibly patient words sounded familiar. In fact, this whole exchange was beginning to sound familiar. "They have a point, Doctor. I've been trying to say this since I joined you! I ought to know how the TARDIS operates. How you operate it." She ignored the muffled protests and wiggled eyebrows. "I only want some basic lessons! Is that too much to ask?"_

_"And it would help you too," Tegan contributed. "You wouldn't have to hover over this thing twenty-four seven."_

_"Exactly," said Martha._

_The Doctor puckered up his lips thoughtfully, pulled out the sonic, and shoved it back in his mouth. "Mpfhphfhhff," he said._

_Tegan and Martha exchanged glances. On the beat of three, they reached out and each grabbed an end of the device, extracting an indignant "Ooof!" along with it._

_"You think we're too thick, don't you?" Martha said. "I don't know about those two, but I'm—" She stopped. He was staring at the sonic hanging between her fingertips; I made a face at the dribble on it as she gingerly handed it back._

_She pointed at her chest. "Medical student, remember? A levels."_

_"And Grace and I are straight A students. Mostly." Tegan added the last bit under her breath._

_The Doctor raised an eyebrow._

_"Driving license," Martha added._

_Tegan made a face and muttered, "I knew we should have taken care of that sooner."_

_His other eyebrow joined the first one._

_"Martha, Martha, Martha," he said patronizingly. I could tell from Martha's face that she wanted to slap him. The Doctor paused. "Tegan, Tegan, Tegan. Garace, Garace, Garace. Operating the TARDIS isn't about intelligence. It's not about pressing this button, then pulling that lever. It's much more difficult than that." He reached out and stroked the curved, ceramic edge of the console. "It's about intuition and imagination; it's about _feeling _your way in the Time Vortex."_

_After all the episodes we'd seen, I figured we had a pretty good feel for the Time Vortex, but this wasn't the time to say that. Particularly since Martha made us laugh with a brilliant line._

_"It's about kicking it when it doesn't work, is what it's about."_

I _know_ I've heard that before, _I thought._

_The Doctor pulled a hurt little boy face._

_"Don't start that," Martha warned, starting to smile. "I've heard you, when you think I'm not around."_

_"Stomping and banging the console," Tegan said, though she probably shouldn't have known that._

_"Well, there you go then!" he said triumphantly, as if that settled the matter. "It's about stomping and _banging _your way through the Time Vortex! Intelligence is overrated, girls, believe you me. I'd take an ounce of heart over a bucketful of brains any day."_

_"Oooh!" mocked Martha and Tegan together. "Bet you're a whiz in the kitchen!"_

_The Doctor gave Tegan a look. "You're too new to be teasing me," he muttered__. _(Note from Tegan: I realize that I should've known better, but, quite frankly, he's such an easy target!) _Then his eyes lit up again. "And talking about food: who's up for breakfast? All that talk of croissants is making me mighty hungry." He stretched out his right hand. "And this here hand is a_ butterin' _hand! How d'you fancy breakfast at Tiffany's?"_

_Tegan was laughing about the "butterin' hand," but Martha's mouth dropped open. "Tiffany's? You mean_ the real _Tiffany's? As in_ Breakfast At?"

_"Where else?" the Doctor beamed back, looking extremely pleased with himself._

_"Nice one!" said Martha, a huge grin on her face. "This is the kind of Time and space travelling I signed up for!"_

_"Not me," Tegan told me confidentially. "I signed up for the other-planet kind."_

_"Something tells me he's_ talking _about the other-planet kind," I responded. She smirked._

_You'll notice that I had dropped out of the conversation until then. The reason was, everything about it, even the parts Tegan added, sounded incredibly familiar. But I knew it wasn't an episode. I was racking my brain, trying to think where I had heard this before._

_"Although," Martha added, "I'm beginning to suspect you've got a bit of a thing for New York, you know." She vanished in the direction of the TARDIS's wardrobe._

_"New York?" asked the Doctor, a puzzled frown wrinkling his brow. "Why did Martha mention New York when we're going to Tiffany's near the Robot Regent's palace on Arkon? Must have misheard her."_

_Tegan elbowed me. "Good call, Grace." But I knew I wasn't being clever, just having a feeling._

_The Doctor landed the TARDIS. "Perfect," he said to himself. "Textbook landing." He shot us a glare. "Like to see you or Martha manage a landing as textbook perfect as that! I'm going out now. Wanna see Arkon?"_

_"I do!" Tegan exclaimed._

_"Um, I'll wait for Martha," I said. "Maybe give her a warning."_

_"Well, Tegan,_ allons-y,_" the Doctor said._

_Tegan couldn't hide her smile. "__'_Allons-y,_" she repeated, looking significantly at me. "Awesome."_

_That's how I came to still be in the TARDIS, thinking hard about my déjà vu. Something about this definitely rang a bell._

_,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,_

"Ahhh," said the Doctor out loud.

"What?" I asked.

"Well," he said, blowing out air, "I'm just a bit surprised at quite how warm, wet, and well, _swampy_ Arkon has become since my last visit."  
"And slippery?" I added distastefully. As he stepped from the TARDIS, the sole of his foot skidded on a moss-covered root beneath him, and it was only by grabbing the TARDIS's doorframe with one hand and my shoulder with the other that he managed to stop himself from ending up in the mud.

I was more careful. The air hit me like a huge, damp blanket. The Doctor stood there, one foot still inside the TARDIS, the other hovering a cautious six inches from the ground.

"Arkon should be a prosperous, advanced, Earth-like world," he said. "Right about now, a hot, F-type star should be beating down on us amid the smells, sounds, and scents of technology run riot."

"Instead of dead silence?" I put in. The languidness was punctuated occasionally by splashing water, and the only smells were the fusty ones of swamp gas and damp.

"A green smell," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "I like green smells. Full of vim and vigor and vegetables. Ummm…" he added, looking out over the oily water that stretched away from the steeply sloping bank where the TARDIS had plonked down. A little ways away, shaggy trees lowered their branches almost to the water, like a floppy fringe. And through the canopy of leaves above us, an orange-red sun blistered the purplish sky.

"This is just a teensy bit wrong," the Doctor confessed to me.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I loitered while Martha ferreted around the TARDIS's wardrobe. "Whatcha doin?" I asked, still the slightest bit bitter that the TARDIS wouldn't let us watch future episodes of Phineas and Ferb._

_"Looking for something ultra-glam and ultra-chic to wear to Tiffany's," she said. "You could help, you know. Besides, don't you want to dress up?"_

_"My sixth sense isn't fashion," I said, shifting my weight. "Sorry."_ Should I tell her about Arkon?

_"Just think Audrey Hepburn. Think Hollywood glamour," she told me, throwing a ball gown in my direction. I wanted to put it on, but the nagging sense that I'd seen this before held me back._

_"I just know the Doctor will be standing in the console room, tapping his foot impatiently. Well, he can just wait," Martha said. I tried to tell her that he and Tegan were off exploring, but she wasn't really talking to me, just venting. "It's not often a girl gets to do sophistication when travelling with him. Jeans, my jacket, and boots have been the order of the day recently, and I'm not passing up this chance to shine. Yes!"_

_She held up a slinky frock—a lilac silk dress and matching elbow-length gloves with pearl cuffs. In seconds, she'd slipped into them and was twirling and preening in front of the mirror. She strapped silver sandals to her feet that just about fitted._

_I let out a slight gasp. "Knock 'im dead, girl," I couldn't help but encourage. _Ten/Rose to the death, but Martha really deserves that. If she had just been a little later in companion chronology… _I thought, and not for the first time._

_With a final tweak of her hair, she bounded out of the wardrobe, ready for breakfast at Tiffany's._

_That's when it hit me._

_.,.,.,.,.,.,.,._

"I assume," said the Doctor, "that something has gone very wrong with Arkon's sun, and that it's caused a massive change in the planet's ecosystem, turning it from a high-tech paradise to a swamp world. Or that the Arkonides have been messing with solar modifiers that had mutated their star into the bloated orange ball that hangs before us. Or that some attacking alien race had done the fiddling for them in an attempt to wipe the Arkonides out."

"You landed wrong," I said. "Admit it, Doctor." I was about to add that he almost always lands wrong, but stopped myself in time.

"Has Garace been messing with the controls?" he questioned me, leaning back into the cool TARDIS interior.

"Um, you know her name's not really…oh forget it. No, she has not." I sighed, slightly exasperated.

"I really must get those gyroceptors fixed," he muttered.

"Yes. Yes you should. But first, and I am sorry, but I have to do this."

I took a deep breath, and began.

"I'monanalienplanet, aproperalienplanet!" I squealed, jumping up and down rapidly.

The Doctor stared. "Have you got that out of your system now?"

I sighed contentedly. "Yep, I'm good."

Cautiously, we tested the ground with our weight, and it held. The slipperiness was more of a problem; we had to hang on to the TARDIS's doorframe and each other to actually get out of the TARDIS.

"There!" The Doctor beamed at his own cleverness. "See, Tegan?" he said, as if I'd been complaining or something. "Wasn't so difficult, was—"

"Oh, come off it," I said, giving him a little shove. He flailed his hands around as his left foot started to slip and slide on the root. Jacket flapping, he wind-milled his arms frantically as his other foot decided to join in the fun.

He could have grabbed me, bringing me down with him. But he must have known that wouldn't have helped, so he grabbed for the open doorway of the TARDIS. Which was an even bigger mistake, as it turned out.

The TARDIS looks pretty solid and hefty, both on TV and in person, despite its external dimensions. But it was apparently as subject to the same forces of physics and friction as the Doctor and I. And despite the fact that it had squashed the roots underneath it when it had landed, they were still very slippery roots. With a creak and groan of roots and a deep squelch of mud, the TARDIS began to slide down the bank towards the water, and the Doctor again began to lose his balance in the opposite direction of the TARDIS.

"Wellingtons!" he managed to cry out to Martha and Grace as he landed flat on his back in a spray of muddy water. It splashed me, but I didn't care. I could only watch in horror, similar to his.

The Doctor lifted himself up on his elbows just in time to see his beloved TARDIS pause at the edge of the swamp before it tipped, almost as if it were waving us goodbye. And in majestic slow motion, the blue box keeled over.

An almighty splash drenched us with warm, silty water. A brief gush of bubbles and a massive wave spread out across the swamp. And then the TARDIS was gone. I squeaked.

"Wellingtons," the Doctor repeated in a disbelieving whisper. "Don't forget your Wellingtons, Martha."

"Grace," I added, sick to my stomach.

_,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,_

_"Martha!" I skidded around the console. It lurched slightly, confirming my suspicions, and I fell. Martha managed to stay upright in the empty console room._

_"Doctor?" she said. "I thought I heard him shout. And he left the door ajar; typical."_  
_"Martha, don't," I wheezed. The rail had knocked the wind out of me._

_"Should it be this dark?" she asked, moving for the door._

_"Of course not," I said, staggering to my feet. "Just close the door, please—"_

_Martha didn't, of course. She reached out into the darkness. I saw her body react in surprise. "I can feel it, but it's not solid," she reported in wonder. "It's like rubber, or… It just gave. It's wet… It's water! Doctor!"_

_I reached her and grabbed her shoulder. "Shut the door! Now!"_

_Before I could finish or she could respond, something powerful and muscled wrapped itself around both of our waists. Our mouths were still open in unfinished screams as the tentacle dragged us into the death-dark waters._

_,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A/N: REPEAT Author key

_Italics is still Grace's perspective (Zoe)_

Normal (still vaguely) is Tegan's perspective (Sara)

* * *

The Doctor and I could do nothing but stare blankly at the spot where the TARDIS had vanished. The only things to mark where she had stood were some scuffed, flattened roots sprouting from the bank.

"Doctor, what do we do?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "They'll be fine. Either the TARDIS door closed before it fell in or the TARDIS activated the force field, because if the entrance were completely open, this whole area would be draining away by now. The interior of the TARDIS would soak up the water like a huge sponge."

"That's not reassuring," I said angrily, "and it doesn't help us with getting it back. We need help."

The Doctor made a face. "I could try diving down into the lake, but the water looks filthy—"

"Wimp."

"And even though—given time—I can probably find the TARDIS, I'm not sure I can hold my breath long enough to actually get inside. Much less you." He sniffed.

"Then, like I said, we need help!"

He opened his mouth to protest, then seemed to remember Martha and Grace down at the bottom of the swamp. He took his eyes off the lake and onto our surroundings. "The water is too still and flat to be a river," he narrated. "Maybe a lake. The TARDIS landed on that promontory sticking into it. Air's damp, though that baleful orange sun is beginning to dry my clothes out. Not much of a breeze. Bird life and probably more in the forest on the other side. Twilight is approaching fast, and with it, the planet's animals will be coming out to feed."

I didn't like the sound of that.

"Get some perspective," he said firmly, probably to himself, since within seconds he had managed to clamber up one of the nearby trees. Perched precariously in the tree's upper reaches, swaying from side to side as he shifted his weight, he apologized to a clearly outraged grey and red bird.

"What are you doing, clinging for dear life?" I called up, starting to climb myself.

I could just make him out shading his eyes. "Wherever we are," he yelled down, "it's obviously a planet that spins quickly on its axis. The day's length is… no more than twelve hours. So definitely not Arkon."

"Smoke," I said suddenly, a few branches below him.

"Seek," the Doctor whispered with a smile, "and ye shall find. Whatever it is, it's worth a second look."

"Jesus. Now there's a guy with even more names than you!"

"Yeah. I always liked that Prince of Peace one," the Doctor said wistfully. "I thought of using it myself… But it doesn't always fit with the whole Oncoming Storm thing."

"Since when do you quote the Bible?"

The Doctor responded, "You kidding? I met the author."

Holy Rassilon, I wanted to hear that story.

Overhead, clouds began to gather, obscuring the orangey disc of the moon. Rain was on its way.

We wandered quite a bit. The Doctor and I got unrecognizably muddy. Not much went on until we heard some rustlings in the distance.

"Whoever is making those," the Doctor pointed out, "can probably hear us."

A flashlight turned on, blinking, from the direction of the noises.

"Morse code!" the Doctor exclaimed, whipping out the sonic and repeating the pattern.

"What are you guys saying?" I asked. Neither Grace nor I knew Morse code.

"Exchanging hi's," he said. "And he or she says, 'What's up?'"

"Tell him, or her, we're lost."

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah, yeah, would have anyway. He slash she says—'Yeah. You'll be out here all nite then.'" He grimaced. "Really, N-I-T-E? That's not how you spell night," he mumbled, flashing back. "Come on, Tegan."

A new message came as he pulled me through the bushes. It wasn't finished when we leaped out right into the beam of flashlight held by a girl who was probably my age, sixteen.

"Excuse me," said the Doctor, his eyebrows raised, "I think you'll find that correct spelling is the mark of an educated mind."

The girl stumbled backwards and tripped, smashing her backpack against the trunk of the tree behind her. I heard a wet crunch. The girl looked up frantically, waving her torch around until it shone in our faces again.

"Or is it the mark of someone with nothing better to do?" I quipped.

The Doctor frowned, considering that, and shrugged.

"I thought you were Orlo," the girl whispered.

As we stepped closer, I imagined what a fright we must look—for the first time, I got a full view of the mess that was the Doctor: his hair was matted with water and dirt, and a daft and slightly scary grin and mad eyes peered out through a mud face-pack.

"Ohhhh," said the Doctor, releasing my hand and raising his. "Sorry! Not a good habit, that, creeping up on people. I keep trying to break Tegan of it, but she doesn't know her own stealth."

Noticing her sheer panic, I elbowed him. "Sorry to tell you this, but that grin you've got? It's less of a killer smile and more the smile of a killer," I hissed.

He paused. The volume went down from manic to friendly. "Sorry," he repeated.

"Wh—who—" began the girl.

"Who am I? Are we?" The mad grin returned, and the girl took a step back. The Doctor slipped the sonic into his pocket and stuck out a grimy hand. The girl stared at it. I coughed, and so did he.

"Oops, sorry," he apologized yet again, wiped the hand on his trousers and thrust it out towards her again, dirtier than ever. "I'm the Doctor. This is Tegan, who apparently has decided she's going to be rude…" He gave me a pointed look, but the girl didn't shake his hand, just stared.

"Ooooo-kaaaay," he said, dropping his hand and backing away slowly. "I think you'd be happier if we went and stood over here. Coming, Tegan?"

We took a dozen paces away from her, and the Doctor squatted down. Seeing as I was already soggy, I stayed upright—and towered all of two inches above the Doctor.

"Where are you from?" the girl asked, watching every move we made.

"Us? Oh…" The Doctor seemed to consider the question for a moment. "Just about everywhere, really. Well, I am, Tegan's a stowaway. And well, everywhere apart from here. Not from here. Definitely not. Where exactly is here, by the way?"

"The Slim Forest," the girl said.

"Ah… The Slim Forest. I take it there's a Not-So-Slim Forest around here somewhere then? And maybe a Rather Stocky Forest too? Or has that one been renamed the Big-Boned Forest?"

I laughed, but stopped at the girl's utter confusion. "Okay, Doctor, cut it out," I said, turning on him.

"Touchy! Oh, I'm doing it again, aren't I? Sor—" He shook his head as if in frustration at himself. "It's just that I've lost a friend of mine—and Tegan's—back in the swamp. And I'm just the _teensiest_ bit eager to find them and make sure they're safe."

The look on the girl's face said, "Oh my gosh, there're two more?"

"So you see," continued the Doctor, "if you could tell me what planet I'm on, I might have some idea of what to expect out there. I mean, I could go through all that 'Red sun… narrows it down; point nine Earth normal gravity… narrows it down' malarkey."

"And believe me, he would," I muttered.

"But it really would be so much easier if you could—"

"Sunday," the girl interrupted. "It's Sunday."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. "Sunday the planet?"

The girl nodded.

"Ahhhh!" said the Doctor, springing alarmingly to his feet.

"So you know it?" I asked.

"Never heard of it." His shoulders sank. "Looks like it's back to the elimination round, then. Where was I? Oh yes, gravity…"

"How did you get here?" asked the girl suddenly, throwing the Doctor.

"Well—um—to Sunday? Lovely name for a planet, by the way: the day you arrived? Thank goodness it wasn't Friday—that would have just been silly." I wasn't sure that was the best thing to say. What if one of the cities was named Friday or something? "Well, my spaceship landed back there. On the edge of the swamp. Before we knew it… splosh!" The words were tumbling out of him. Good thing I was well-versed in keeping up with him from the show.

"What about your friends?"

"They were inside the ship," I answered, mouth going dry. "Still are, hopefully."

The Doctor's eyes suddenly looked incredibly gentle. Incredibly fragile. "Please," he said softly. "I need help."

The girl thought for a moment. "It's too late now—too dark. If your ship's fallen in the swamp, you'll need some serious muscle to get it out."

"And this serious muscle… Is there some around here? I mean, apart from yourself." He looked her up and down.

She grinned. "We'll have to go back to the settlement. Tell them. Let them decide."

"Ah… the settlement. That'll be where the smoke's coming from, will it? Well, it's a plan," the Doctor agreed with a nod. Not consulting me, of course. He gestured ahead. "Ladies first," he smiled, and then grimaced. "Ooh, that was terribly sexist of me, wasn't it?"

And before either of us ladies could take a step, he pushed in front of us. "Age before beauty," he called over his shoulder as we set off after him. "Pot before kettle."

I laughed rather hysterically, although the other girl probably thought I was insane.

After a few minutes of plodding through the darkened forest, illuminated only by the shreds of red moonlight shining through gaps in the clouds, the Doctor said, "So. Tell us about yourself. What's your name?"

The girl looked sideways at him. She let me walk next to her, but he had kept a few yards from us, clearly aware that she still felt uncomfortable about him.

"Candice Kane," she said.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Nice to meet you, Candice Kane." This time the Doctor didn't stick out his muddy hand. Both of them were jammed firmly in his trouser pockets.

"Candice," I repeated. "Right. Like we said, he's the Doctor, I'm Tegan."

"So how long have you been on Sunday, Candice?" the Doctor asked.

"Almost a year," she said.

"That long, eh? And how many of you are there?"

"Fewer than four hundred of us now," Candice replied. The look on her face seemed to wonder why he was asking when he obviously should have known.

"This settlement," he went on, gesturing ahead of us. "Have a name?"

"The old one was called Sunday City—this one'll be the same, once we've got it up and running again."

"Human imagination," he said with a grin. "Never underestimate it. And what year is this?" he asked before suddenly apologizing again (but not for the slight to humans). "I'm sounding like a tourist, aren't I?"

"What year?" Candice looked at him sideways. "You're not one of those New Julian weirdoes that want to go messing with the calendar and everything, are you?"

"Oh no," the Doctor replied confidently. He probably knew what a New Julian was, too. "Just space travel, you know: relativity, time dilation. All that stuff."

"I'm going to ignore the 'human imagination' thing, all right?" I said, feeling pleased with myself for remembering our cover. I instantly regretted it, however, when a flash of recognition passed through his eyes. Shoot, I thought. He remembers Vida Swann* saying that. Way to not draw attention to yourself, Tegan.

"Right," Candice said slowly, eyeing us warily. "Well, 'round here it's the usual 2108."

"Ah… the First Wave," the said thoughtfully, as if to himself.

"Ah… my first time travel," I echoed softly.

"Anyway," he added briskly, not wanting Candice to think about what we had said, "you said 'up and running again.' Problems with the first one?"

I knew from her intake of breath that this was going to be a long walk. And a long story. "The first wave of settler came to Sunday just over a year ago, and all eight hundred of them set up along the banks of the river…"

We learned from Candice that the settlers had rapidly built quite a decent little town from the prefabricated huts and buildings they had brought with them. Self-sufficient in almost everything, they anticipated a tough but fair start to their new lives. They had a couple of trucks, a fabricator plant to churn out more construction panels, a generator station. Everything looked like it was going to be fine—they would have a nice little city up and running for the next wave of colonists.

But then, three months ago, the communications and observation satellite they had left in orbit detected something disturbing. Sunday's orbit would take it through the debris cloud of a recently destroyed asteroid, smashed to dust when it passed close to one of the system's gas giant planets. The settlers were worried—but when they analyzed the data on the asteroid fragments, they relaxed a little: they were all fairly small, none of them large enough to cause an Extinction Level Event. As the planet entered the debris cloud, the Sundayans sat back, watched the skies and hoped for nothing worse than a nice light show.

"And I take it," the Doctor interrupted, "that the outcome wasn't good."

Candice nodded, pushing aside bushes as we squelched through the forest. I could hear the soft pattering of rain.

"Most of the fragments burned up in the atmosphere—it was the best fireworks show we'd ever seen. I mean—" she looked guilty—"really spectacular. These huge fireballs and streaks across the sky. We all stood outdoors and watched. The little kids loved it."

Candice paused. I braced myself.

"A couple of pieces got through," she continued. "They didn't just burn up like all the others. One of them struck the ground a couple of hundred kilometers away—shaking the ground, knocking a few of the half-constructed buildings down. Everyone panicked. People were screaming and crying, but the scientists said we'd be okay—the dust cloud it threw up was tiny, really. Nothing to worry about." She paused. "It was the last piece, though. That was the problem. The meteorite hit the ocean, just a kilometer or so offshore—about six from Sunday city." Candice stopped again, her eyes faraway. She must have been remembering the night.

"A tidal wave," whispered the Doctor, closer to Candice than he had been a moment ago. He glanced up at the sky as the rain made the forest around us hiss.

"It just rolled in along the river—a great, black wall, moonlight catching the top edge of it." Candice shuddered. "All we could do was stand and stare at it, you know?" She turned to the Doctor, who had edged even closer. "And then everyone started screaming and running. People were grabbing their kids, bags, clothes, anything they could. It was chaos. They weren't even all running in the right direction. Some of them headed upslope, away from the river. Others—who knows why!—were running along the bank. Maybe they thought they'd get further by staying on the flat. Some of them…" Candice closed her eyes, but something told me she couldn't stop seeing it. "Some of them just went in their houses, calm as anything, and closed the doors. We managed to meet up on the other side of the hill, after the wave had subsided."

Candice was quiet for a long time, then, and I tried to imagine what she had seen. The darkness in the Doctor's eyes showed how he understood. I thought of people asking if anyone had seen this person or that, unable to find them—blank faces from older people who wouldn't have realized quite, two weak to ask—children asking where Mum and Dad were—grandfathers trying to explain…

I shook it away as Candice started up again. "We lost almost everything." She brushed her straggly blonde hair back from her face, slicking it against her head. The Doctor didn't even seem to notice the rain. "Some of us went back the next day—to see, you know… The waters had fallen by then—a bit, anyway. Almost everything useful was either underwater or had been washed away. Even the ship was gone. We managed…" She broke off, choking up. I wanted to do something, but I felt so awkward. "Some of the buildings on the edge of the city had survived, and we managed to salvage a lot of the stuff that had floated to the surface." She stopped again, looking into the Doctor's eyes. "And then we started to find the bodies."

And suddenly Candice was sobbing into the Doctor's warm, muddy shoulder. He just held her while she let it all out, barely seeming to notice the rain. Hesitantly, I hugged her, and we waited for her to calm. I'm not sure how long we—mostly he—held her, saying nothing, passing no judgments. No telling her not to cry, no telling her that everything would be all right. No vague, meaningless words of comfort from someone who hadn't seen what she had seen. No trying to be a father or a brother or a friend. I copied his example, just letting her cry.

Eventually, she pulled away from us, and we let her.

"Sorry," she said, rubbing her nose on the back of her hand. The rain was falling heavily now, and it just made her face wetter.

"Don't be silly," the Doctor said. "Nothing like a good cry. Lets all those brain chemicals run free, sort themselves out."

She sniffed.

"Does it?" I asked.

He stared at us and shrugged. "Probably," he said, as if he'd just made it up. "But you stuck it out—all of you. You stayed."

"Not much choice. The One Small Step—our ship—was gone. And the second wave of colonists'll be here in a year. Can't let 'em down, can we?"

"Oh, no," agreed the Doctor. "That'd never do. Sounds like you could do with a bit of moral support.

Candice snorted a laugh. "Couldn't we just!"

"Well, perhaps you'd better take Tegan and me to Sunday City. I've got a City and Guilds in moral support." He beamed the smiliest of smiles. "First class!"

"I'll just bet he does," I said.

Not too long after, the Doctor, Candice, and I clumped up to the wooden door of a building Candace called "the lab." We stood sopping wet under the overheard fluorescents, faced with two open-mouthed adults (a man and a woman) and twelve cages in three rows of four. Each contained a creature, I could see.

"Hiya." Candice smiled awkwardly.

Instantly, the black woman, who had long, braided black hair, jumped to her feet. "What's up, honey?"

The muddy Doctor and I stepped in behind her. His bright grin was as if someone had turned on another light. "Hello! I'm the Doctor," he announced. "Can I interest you in some uplifting words? Cheery banter and rousing speeches are my specialty."

Not much I could add to that. "And I'm Tegan Young," I said. "I don't do much."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I coughed myself awake, choking and retching on the stale water in my throat and lungs. Over me, I could feel Martha performing CPR._

_"All right!" I spluttered. "You can stop! Please stop before you try mouth-to-mouth!"_

_I heard her exhale deeply._

_"Thank you," I added, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand._

_It was almost pitch black, but I began to make her out. I was neither cold nor warm. I found Martha's hand, and it was the same. Breathing deeply, we leaned against each other, still and quiet, for a few moments. I finally let go of her hand._

_I knew exactly what had happened, but Martha was still sorting it out. "The TARDIS, that—thing, the water, and nothing. Why is it so dark?" she whispered. "D'you think something's happened to our eyes? Or is it just me?"_

_"No, me too." I tried to sound confident. "Our eyes are fine."_

_"Right, don't panic." Got to hand it to Martha, she actually seemed to be taking her own advice._

_I heard a soft pattering noise above us, like rain on a tent. And then another sound, almost—but not quite—a scratching noise._

_"Like a cat washing itself," Martha murmured. Then she yelped, pulling back into me. "Something touched my hand." She sounded embarrassed. "It was just you, wasn't it?"_

_I said nothing, since I hadn't touched her and didn't want to make the situation worse. Tiny feet pattered along with a gentle sniffing noise._

_"We're in an animal's burrow," I said._

_"Yeah, that sounds like a decent guess."_

_Not so much a guess as a memory, but I couldn't say that to Martha._

_"The Doctor brought us here for breakfast," she said, sounding horrified. "Whose breakfast?"_

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"We've got to tell Pallister!" said the man firmly. Candice had called him Col.

"If I—" the Doctor said calmly. He and I stood awkwardly near the door.

"Of course we tell Pallister," replied the woman, Ty. "Just not yet. It's the middle of the night!"

"So what?" countered Col. "We wait until morning and then tell him that we've had two strangers in here—off-worlders—all night and that we didn't want to wake him?" He snorted.

"Perhaps I cou—" tried the Doctor again.

"He'll go mad, that's what he'll do."

"And if we take them there now," reasoned Ty, "Pallister'll just have them locked up until morning anyway. The girl's only Candy's age! And Candy says they have friends out there."

Col scoffed, "How do we know that—"

"Well," the Doctor interjected, "you could always try ask—"

"—he's telling the truth? Candy says he turned up out of nowhe—"

"Right!" bellowed the Doctor, instantly silencing the two. "Enough, as Donna Summer and Barbra Streisand once said, is enough!"

And Col and Ty turned to him, their eyes wide with astonishment. I, however, understood the reference, and smiled.

"If you'd have the good manners to argue with us, instead of over us, literally in Tegan's case, then maybe we could get this sorted. Well, argue with me, anyway. Arguing with Tegan would just be rude. Do you lot take classes in interruption?" He threw a glance at Candice and raised a hand, his fingers spread out, and counted off. "One, I was not stalking Candice." He paused and frowned. "Candy?"

"Yes, Doctor. Candy Kane," I repeated. "I'm sorry about that, by the way."

"Yeah, thanks," Candice/Candy mumbled.

The Doctor shook his head sharply. "Two, yes, I do have a spaceship out there in the swamp, just like you do; and yes, our friends are—I hope—still inside it. And three." He stopped, stared at his long fingers, and sighed. "I should have made the one about Martha and Garace into number three, shouldn't I? Two's just pathetic."

Col, Ty, and Candy were staring at him. I didn't understand what was wrong, and neither did he. "What? What?"

"Who the future are you, 'Doctor'?" demanded Ty.

"Oh, I like that," I said. "Suits him."

"And where the future have you come from?"

The Doctor's shoulders sagged. With a resigned sigh, he reached into his inside picket. Ty and Col—but not Candy or I—pulled back as if he were reaching for a weapon.

"There!" he said triumphantly, brandishing the psychic paper I had expected. I managed to conceal my squeal of excitement. "That should answer your questions." He watched them smugly as they scanned it.

"You're a door-to-door carpet cleaner salesman?" said Col. "And she's your mascot?"

"Mascot?" I repeated, glaring at the Doctor.

"What?" Ty snatched the psychic paper from the Doctor's hand. "This says he's Madame Romana, Astrologer of the Stars. Doesn't mention her." She looked at Col as if he'd gone mad, giving the Doctor a chance to grab the wallet back. He peered at it in dismay, shook it, peered at it again, and moaned. I confess that I was laughing uncontrollably.

"I'm going to get Pallister," said Col firmly, fixing the Doctor with a sharp look. What had carpet cleaner salesmen ever done to him, I wondered?

"Well, maybe that's best," said the Doctor defiantly. "Then we can get this whole business sorted out, you can help us get my ship back from the swamp, and we can be on our way. How's that sound?"

"Sounds fine to me," Col said through gritted teeth.

"Go on then." The Doctor waved Col away with the tips of his fingers. "Run along to this Glenister, whoever he is. Tell him the Doctor will see him now."

Col looked confused, glancing between Candy and Ty and the Doctor and me.

"That's right," said the Doctor pleasantly. "Leave us here. But I warn you, Tegan hasn't eaten in, ooh, hours, and she's feeling very peckish. What are you waiting for, Col? Go on—we'll be fine."

"You're mad," muttered Col.

I wanted to say, I'm harmless, but figured the Doctor wouldn't appreciate it.

But the Doctor was suddenly ignoring everyone, striding past to examine the cages at the back of the lab. "Ooh! Otters! Otters with the faces of bears!"

"Really?" I said.

"Awwww," he cooed. "Aren't you lovely?"

"Doctor," said Ty sharply, pushing past a speechless Col, "I'd be careful, they have—"

"Bearlike claws, too!" I finished as one reached through the bars and swiped at the Doctor.

He pulled back just in time, fished out his brainy specs, and popped them on. "What massive teeth. All the better," he grinned at us, "to eat you with!"

"They're vegetarians, Doctor," said Ty dryly.

The Doctor turned back to the cages and peered closer, this time keeping his hands firmly clasped behind his back. "Ahhh, yes. You can tell the incisors are for chewing through wood. Castoridae, then."

"Beavers," agreed Ty in admiration. "Although they're closer—at least in appearance—to the mustelidae. Otters. They're not quite mammals, though—closer to monotremes, really."

I looked at Candy, who shrugged.

"Egg-layers?" mused the Doctor. "And semi-aquatic, judging by the webbing between the toes." He turned sharply and stared at Ty through narrow eyes before slipping his glasses back into his pocket. "So why are they here? And why are they in cages?"

"Col and I are studying them."

"And why, considering all you've been through over the past couple of months, would you be spending valuable time studying these… these—have you named them?"

"We just call them otters," said Ty.

"Just 'otters'? Again, what's happened to human creativity? Love looking for the familiar in the unfamiliar, you lot. Come on!" He spread his arms wide. "You're on a brand new world, brave new horizons, boldly going where no one's ever gone before, blah blah. You should be making up exciting new names for things."

" 'Jubjubs,'" I suggested. "Like that bird from Lewis Carroll."

"Or 'spingles.' Always wanted to find something to call a spingle. Or am I getting confused with Spangles?"

"You might conceivably be thinking of a 'spink.' "

"True, I do love a bit of Astrid Lindgren."

"Let's just leave them as otters for the time being," Col suggested icily, interrupting our literary banter.

"Fair enough," said the Doctor brightly. "Never one to interfere, me." I snorted on laughter; he shot me a look. "So how come you have time to study otters? Shouldn't you be out building fences or digging wells or something rough and sweaty?"

"I'm a xenozoologist, Doctor. I'm nearly sixty and, to be quite honest, I'm not good at much else. And anyway, we're the advance guard, so to speak. We're here to set up the colony, investigate the local wildlife, make sure it's all hunky-dory for the rest of the colonists to arrive—if they bother coming now. Col," she said firmly, turning away from the Doctor, "either get Pallister or sit down."

Candy let out a little laugh. "They're like an old married couple."

"You mean they aren't one?" I asked innocently, which made her laugh more.

Col shook his head. "Pallister'll go ape when he finds out—"

"When I find out what?"

Everyone turned to the door. Standing there in a grubby black suit, flanked by two armed colonists, was a man who must have been Pallister. Silently, the two men drew their guns. One aimed his at the Doctor; the other trained his on me.

* * *

*A/N: Vida Swann is a character from _The Feast of the Drowned _by Stephen Cole.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

A/N: Author key

_Italics is still Grace's perspective (Zoe) _

Normal is still Tegan's perspective (Sara)

* * *

I'd never had a gun pointed at my face before (although it wouldn't be the last time), and I found it decidedly unpleasant. Although, I will say this; I was very glad the Doctor was next to me. This was turning out to be quite the first trip.

There was complete silence. The Doctor stared from one gun to the other and then fixed Pallister with a firm gaze. "I take it you're Bannister."

"Pallister," corrected Pallister coldly.

"Bannister, Pallister…" said the Doctor airily.

"What are you to doing on Sunday?" demanded Pallister.

"Well." The Doctor sucked in a breath. "We thought we might wash the car, have lunch down at the pub—although Tegan here is a bit underage—and maybe fall asleep watching the telly. Unless, of course, you're asking Tegan or me or both on a date. In which case, I should point out—"

"What are you doing on our planet?"

"Oh!" The Doctor's eyes widened. "It's your planet, is it? Sorry—we must have missed the sign on our way in." He suddenly turned his back on the three men in the doorway. "Anyway," he said blithely, "what was I saying? Oh yes. These otters of yours…"

Pallister's men readied their guns with two heavy clunks.

"Doctor, I don't like this road we're on," I hissed.

The Doctor took a deep breath and turned back. "Good thinking, Rossiter. When something comes along you don't understand, shoot it! When faced with a puzzle, shoot it! When someone you've never met before says hello, shoot him! Nice policy. Puzzle's just me by the way; Tegan's an open book."

"Strictly speaking," I said, hoping first that the Doctor hadn't meant that he knew our secret, and second that this wouldn't damage our case, "you never said hello."

"Oh, didn't I?" The Doctor looked confused. "Sorry, then. Hello, McAllister."

I heard Candy gulp, probably a bad sign.

"Right!" exclaimed Ty suddenly, pushing the Doctor and I aside as she walked between us to stand in front of Pallister and his goons. "This has gone on quite long enough! What is going on here, Pallister?" She glanced disdainfully at the two raised guns. "And put those down before you hurt someone. You may be Chief Councilor, but since when is Sunday a military state? You can't stomp around with your toy soldiers waving guns at people. Just look at them? Does she look like she needs an armed guard?" She waved a hand in my direction. I waved back. "Does he?"

Pallister looked totally thrown by Ty. "This is none of your concern, Professor Benson," he sputtered through gritted teeth.

Ty planted her hands on her ample hips. "I think it is. Remind me, Councilor Pallister, but unless there's been a military coup overnight, Sunday's still a democracy, isn't it? And I'm pretty sure that the colony's constitution says that any armed action needs to be approved by the entire Council, not just one member." She raised an eyebrow at the two guns. "And I think waving guns around at complete strangers in my lab—one a teenager—comes under the heading of 'armed action.' Or has the constitution changed overnight, too?"

I wanted to cheer for her.

"This man and this girl are strangers," replied Pallister, his words almost strangled in his throat. "And as such, he at least presents a potential threat."

"Threat?" The Doctor's face lit up. He grinned. "Threat? Me? Well, I've been called a fair few things in my time, but the only people who've called me a threat are up to no good." He tipped his head back and looked down his nose at Pallister. "Which would rather suggest that you, Mr. Canister, are up to no good, wouldn't it?"

Pallister opened his mouth, but (of course) the Doctor breezed on. "Anyway. I think you need me. And we need you. We have friends out there that we have to find, not to mention my spaceship. Wouldn't it make sense for us to work together, eh? A friend in need and all that? Helping hand…? Too many cooks…?"

I groaned softly. "You started well, Doctor, but you ought to quit while you're behind."  
Pallister just stared at him—and waved the two men forwards. One grabbed my arm. "Hey!" I cried as the Doctor cried, "Oi!"

"This is mad," said Ty as Pallister gave orders to one of the men to escort us to the detention center. "When the Council hears about this—"

"They'll back me up," Pallister finished. "We don't know where they've come from or what they're here for, and until we do, I've no intention of letting them run around the settlement."

"At least leave Tegan alone," the Doctor tried. "She's sixteen. Would you lock Candice up for being a stranger?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures." Pallister smiled crookedly.

"Thanks for trying," I murmured. My arm started to hurt.

Ty clenched her firsts. "They're not going to let you get away with this!"

"Believe me, you'll thank me when it turns out that this Doctor and his sidekick are here to cause trouble."

"Hey come he gets to be the Doctor, but I'm either a sidekick or a mascot? Can I just be Tegan? Is that okay with everybody?" I ranted. I was ignored, much to my consternation.

Ty made a sharp tutting noise and crossed her arms. "But look at the state of them!"

"If you don't mind my saying, Professor, you seem very keen to believe their story. If they've just arrived in a spaceship—if—then how come no one reported seeing it land? Maybe they've been sent from some other colony to interfere."

"You're paranoid, Pallister. What if he's an adjudicator sent from Earth for some reason, and she's his intern? How's that going to look on your record, eh? Locking up an official from Earth is going to make you very popular."

On cue, the Doctor's hand appeared between them, holding the psychic paper. Ty took it before Pallister could, expecting to find the card that read "Madame Romana." Instead, she and the Doctor grinned at each other and she thrust it in front of Pallister.

His jaw dropped. "Doctor, Miss Young," he said smarmily, motioning for his two assistants to lower their guns and drop my arm. "Please, please accept my apologies. Why didn't you say you were an adjudicator, Doctor?"

This was great fun to watch now that the guns were down. I was also glad that the Doctor had remembered to include me in the psychic qualifications.

"Well," the Doctor replied almost bashfully. "We don't like to go about boasting, you know." He leaned close to Pallister and whispered, "And we have to be so careful about the people we tell. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, of course." Pallister's voice was oily. I had to bite my tongue to keep from giggling. "If you'd like to come this way, I'll have an office sorted for you." He swept toward the door.

"How did you manage that?" whispered Ty as she, the Doctor, and I followed, Col and Candy staying back.

The Doctor pulled a spooky face, wiggled his fingers, and grinned wolfishly. "Madame Romana," he said in an accent that reminded me of Tia Dalma from Pirates of the Caribbean. "She know everything!"

She was brilliant, that's for sure, I thought to myself.

Apparently, I'd muttered it, because the Doctor looked at me strangely. "What did you say?"

"I…said you were brilliant. That paper—what does it do?"

"Oh, well…" He lowered his voice so the others wouldn't hear. "It shows people what I want them to see. Or what they expect to see. Sometimes the second one's a bother."

Grace isn't the only one who can pull a save out of thin air.

Okay, yeah, it was pretty rubbish. But it made me think of Grace, and I could feel my stomach sink.

I remembered us almost fighting each other for the spare key. How much would this adventure cost us?

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I realized we'd fallen asleep again, but I had no idea how I or Martha had managed. She was breathing softly beside me. The comparative warmth of the burrow next had dried us out a little, but I had started shivering. In her sleep, I could hear Martha's teeth chatter. The rain and the rustling noises seemed to have stopped, but as I shifted, trying not to crackle on the dry leaves, they started up again._

_I squinted at the ceiling. Yes, it was getting lighter—speckled with daylight. I caught a flicker of movement, a dark shadow on a darker background, which was definitely not comforting._

It's coming_, I remembered. _But how soon? Didn't something else come first?

_The burrow was woven in some sort of wicker work, which should have been a bit cozier as far as Martha and I sharing space was concerned. How long had we been in here?_

_Martha stirred. "Doctor?" she croaked._

"_No," I whispered. "Sorry." _He's got to come. But when? Oh, I have to remember!

_Martha sat up, blinking. "We're in a chamber, a dome really," she finally said, pointing to the darker, sunken area. "I assume that's where the water is."_

_Something moved on the other side of the pit: a slim, upright shape that shrunk like an animal dropping from its hind legs onto all fours._

"_There's a lower level," Martha whispered, leaning forward, "like a Roman—what d'you call it?—amphitheater. There are shapes…"_

"_Let me." I roughly pushed her back. It was starting to come back to me. My eyes adjusted right before I could shut them, with a shriek that meant I really hadn't remembered and wasn't any better prepared than Martha was. _

"_What is it?" Martha asked, pulling me back into a hug._

_Three humans, fleshless and pale, their mouths open wide as if in a final scream._

_All I said was, "Right. Skeletons first."_

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

I was just getting used to how fast things moved with the Doctor. One minute Pallister had shown us into a barely furnished office, the next the Doctor was organizing a mission to rescue Martha, Grace, and the TARDIS.

Pallister had wasted a good ten minutes apologizing until the Doctor had fixed him with a steely glare and told him in no uncertain terms to go away and leave us to it.

"That man," said Ty as she peered out of the window at Pallister scuttling into the pink dawn, "is bad news. You know that, don't you?"

The Doctor smiled at her, then bent over the map on the desk.

"I think we'd worked that one out," I said.

"You're not an adjudicator and his intern at all, are you?"

He seemed shocked at the suggestion. "Professor Benson! Are you accusing me of impersonating an officer of the Earth Empire? You're right that Tegan's not my intern, though."

"I'm not a sidekick either," I said, then got an idea. "Maybe more of a companion?"

"Not yet," he said a bit impatiently. "You've got to earn that right."

That shut me up.

"We have an Earth Empire?" Ty asked.

The Doctor glanced at his watch. "You will. Anyway, we're here—and the TARDIS landed here." His forefinger stabbed at the map.

"The TARDIS is your ship?"

"Spot on, Watson. Now, are there any beasties out there we need to be careful of? Candice told us about what happened. The flood. Sorry about that."

"Very," I interjected softly.

"I'd hate to be responsible for the loss of any more of your people."

"No," said Ty after a moment's thought. "The lack of 'beasties' was one of the reasons Sunday was approved for colonization. A bit wet and soggy, but warm. They were going to call it 'Wetworld'—in contrast to 'Earth'—before we vetoed it. Made us sound incontinent."

I made a face. "Very wise," the Doctor said.

He smiled, straightened, and took a deep breath. "Can you round up half a dozen bodies and some ropes? And if you've got any good swimmers around here, that would help."

"You're going to pull a spaceship out of a swamp with ropes and half a dozen bruisers?" Ty was incredulous. "Just how big is this TARDIS of yours?"

"Depends on your perspective," I said, earning myself the Doctor's elbow in my ribs.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I could tell Martha was trying hard not to think about looking at the skeletons, and she was doing much better than I was. I could see them in my head, screaming. That's traveling with the Doctor for you._

"_Is that going to happen to us?" she asked rhetorically._

_The growing light had revealed the chamber in more detail. At the other side was a small hole, through which a constant stream of otter-like things came and went. The famous bear-faced otters, I thought._

"_We can't just sit here," Martha said firmly. "Maybe that's what happened to the others."_

"_Martha Jones, the thinker. You ought to be a general," I said._

"_In this dress?" she groaned. "Stupid."_

_But then we heard a deep sucking, slurping sound from below. The otters reared up as the surface of the black water slid aside. Martha drew herself up, back against the wall of soil, crying out instinctively._

_Seeing it was terrifying and somehow exhilarating. I finally knew why the Doctor called the werewolf in "Tooth and Claw" beautiful. It was as though the inky waters themselves were rising up. A tentacle like the one that had dragged us from the TARDIS started out thinner than my wrist and quickly grew to something wider than my waist. Like a snail's eyestalk it probed the chamber, seeking. Hunting us._

_Slowly, it extended further. I was too scared to make a noise, but it came to rest just a foot from Martha's face. I came to my senses and did the first heroic thing of my life. Like a striking snake, it plunged toward Martha's head. But I got in its way. It took me instead._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A/N: Last repeat of author key

_Italics is Grace Anscombe's perspective (Zoe Alice Latimer)_

Normal is Tegan Young's perspective (Sara Eleanor Rose)

* * *

_I wasn't prepared for it to be icy cold, but I managed to take a deep, sharp breath as the thing struck my face. Good thing, because it blocked my mouth and nose, squirming as though it was trying to enter my throat. I gagged._

_"Get off, get off her, get off!" I could hear Martha shriek. She pulled at me, throwing her fist against the tentacle. But with slow, inexorable force, it crushed me against the wall, flowing around my head. It crept over my ears, and suddenly I couldn't hear Martha anymore. I struggled, smothered and dizzy and suffocating and panicked. We could have been kicking a tree._

_Any time now! I thought desperately. That would have been my last thought in the redness and the cold and the pain in my chest._

_Just as I felt my body sag, there was lightness, a feeling of letting go. Somewhere in the distance, I saw a faint blue light. And it vanished, ripping away the cold as something pale burst out of the darkness._

_"I knew you would come for us," I gasped honestly, relieved all the same._

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Grace collapsed, unconscious. "Get her out," ordered the Doctor, lifting my best friend's body toward me, Ty, and the others. I reached forward, but didn't quite have the strength to grab her. The others hesitated. "Now!" the Doctor shouted, his face as dark as storm clouds.

Three of the men rushed forward and maneuvered Grace up and out of the otters' nest.

"Martha Jones!" the Doctor bellowed, enveloping his soggy, gasping, but unharmed official companion in a bear hug. "Where are your Wellingtons?"

She laughed shakily. "Yeah, let's discuss that after you've got us away!"

"What was that thing?" Ty asked as Martha climbed out and Grace was laid gently on the soggy ground. The Doctor leaped nimbly through the hole he'd made in the nest's canopy. The otters had scattered as the Doctor crashed in.

"This thing?" The Doctor brandished his sonic screwdriver, which had made the thing wrapped around Grace's head pull away and vanish into the water at the bottom of the nest. I shuddered at the memory.

"No, that thing," Ty said, pointing back into the ruined nest.

"That's one of my questions, but more importantly, how is Grace?" I asked in a rush.

Martha nodded. "She got in the way for me. I don't know why. But I would hate myself if—" She broke off, probably thinking of the Doctor.

The Doctor had already pulled back Grace's eyelids to check her pupils. "She'll be fine. And as for that thing, as we've termed it, I have no idea. But at least we know it's not very partial to focused ultrasound, don't we?"

Martha knelt down. "I'm almost a doctor. Let me see." She brushed back the hair on Grace's temples. A pattern of tiny red dots—pinpricks of blood—was visible. "Doctor?" she said, her voice low and concerned. "I'm not so sure about this."

The Doctor blinked. "Neither am I."

"Um, why are you dressed like that?" Ty asked Martha. She stopped, probably embarrassed to realize that was the wrong thing to say.

Martha glanced down at her extremely ripped and dirty ball gown. The image of practical Martha dolled up even more than "The Lazarus Experiment" was strange. "Tiffany's. Not," Martha sighed, eyeing the swamp. She ripped her high heels from her feet. "Why did I ever take off my jeans?"

"Not exactly adjudicator either," I muttered. Martha would need a lot of filling in.

The Doctor sat back on his haunches and peered down through the hole in the roof of the nest. "Down the otter-hole," he murmured.

We had been tramping through the dawn-lit forest for almost half an hour, on the way to rescue the TARDIS, when the Doctor had stopped. "Hear that?" he had said, holding up a hand for silence. I hadn't heard anything. "It's Martha and Garace!" he'd shouted before haring off. We could only race after him. By the time we had actually caught up, he was standing in the bottom of an otter nest, the roof caved in where he'd smashed through it. And he was aiming his glowing sonic against…

I didn't know what he'd been aiming it against. All I saw in the gloom was something long, thick, and dark, like a massive, glassy tentacle. Underneath was Grace and on top Martha, trying to wrench it away. And suddenly the tentacle thing had whipped back into the darkness, drenching the Doctor, Martha, and Grace.

"That thing," he mused. "I take it you've not seen it before?"

"Never," Ty replied. "What was it doing in an otter nest?"

"Could be some sort of symbiote, living with them, sharing their nest. Maybe it's a pet. Maybe that's why you've never seen it."

"Could be. But I've seen inside a couple of nests before and never seen anything like that."

"We'll sort that out later—we've got to get Garace back to the settlement. And I suppose Martha would like that too."

Martha nodded firmly and smiled wryly. "A change of clothes, a cup of tea. But I don't want to leave Grace for long. Not after that."

"If I were you," said the Doctor to Ty, "I'd take a look at the skeletons in there. They might well be people you lost in the flood."

Ty nodded, looking pained. I didn't blame her. "What about your ship?"

The Doctor threw her a dark look. "I think that can wait, don't you?"

The hospital, relievingly, was better equipped than expected considering the losses that the settlers had faced—a low, wide bungalow, partly constructed form prefabricated plastic panels, partly from wood, sitting at one edge of the square. The main ward was empty when we arrived. Martha parted ways to change clothes, and Grace was rushed to a bed and covered with a blanket.

Ty introduced us to Dr. Sam Hashmi, a short, elderly man who came to us briskly.

"This is Garace," said the Doctor, wasting no time. I figured I could correct Dr. Hashmi later. "She's suffered hypoxia, but the lack of oxygen's not what's worrying me." He pulled aside the brown hair on her temples. "What d'you reckon this is?"

Sam peered at the speckle of red dots. "Puncture wounds? Has something attacked her?"

"Oh yes," said the Doctor sourly. "A very big something."

"A very, very big something," I echoed with a shudder.

"What?" asked Sam.

"If we knew that, we wouldn't call it 'a very big something'!" the Doctor snapped and shook his head. "Please, just do what you can for her, Dr. Hashmi."

While Sam set about taking Grace's pulse and blood pressure. A clean and characteristically clothed Martha skidded in. "I'm a medical student," she explained, helping him hook Grace up to a body monitor. The Doctor watched with folded arms, and I chewed my nails, standing back.

"She'll be fine," Ty said, putting one hand on my shoulder and the other on his. "I'm sure of it."

The Doctor turned to glower at me. "I never should have agreed to let you two come."

_That _was the wrong thing to say. I glowered back at him with as much force as I could muster. "Why, 'cause you'd rather it was Martha?"

Suddenly, Candy rushed in. The room was getting crowded.

"Professor Benson!" she said. "They said you'd gone out to…" Her voice trailed off as she saw Martha and Grace. "Who're they?" she whispered.

"I'm Martha Jones," Martha said, quickly waving.

"And that," finished the Doctor without turning, "is Garace. You could call her another one of my friends."

"Oh," said Candy. She looked at me and must've seen the dark look on my face, as she hugged me self-consciously. "I'm sorry."

"Someone's going to be," muttered the Doctor. "Or something."

After a long, awkward pause, the Doctor suddenly spun on his heel. "Right!" he announced. "Tell me all you know about these otters."

Candy recovered first. (Well, I wasn't too surprised, but I couldn't answer because I knew nothing about the otters.) "Orlo brought one in while you were out," she said.

Leaving Dr. Hashmi, Martha, and Grace, we went to the lab. Candy pointed out the otter, which stared out at us suspiciously with baleful little eyes. "He said it was a real handful."

"What are they normally like when you catch them?" The Doctor leaned forward and squeaked at the otter. It glared back.

"Normally," answered Ty, "they're fairly docile. Sometimes they put up a bit of a struggle, but they calm down quite quickly." She indicated a plump little thing with a grayish splotch on its right ear, curled up happily. "This is our oldest resident. When we brought him in last week, he was aggressive, but now he's a real sweetie—and very bright: he's got the maze down to a minute."

Of course, the Doctor had to know about the maze, so Ty showed him a large side room, the floor laid out with a complex wall-to-wall maze up to his knee, with a roof to keep the otters from jumping over the walls to get at the food on the other end.

"We use it to test how bright they are—no resources for anything else. When we first brought him in, it took him almost an hour, and boy was he snappy about it."

"That can't be unusual," the Doctor frowned. "Most intelligent creatures do that. It's called learning—start off bad, get better. Even humans are quite good at it."

Ty pulled a face. "I'm a zoologist, Doctor, so I've worked with animals, and people, for years. There's something wrong about this: it's the speed with which their learning curve increases, then suddenly plateaus after about two days. If the otters were capable of learning so quickly, they'd be building a city here instead of us."

"Oh, don't judge an alien species by your own." The Doctor made a sucking noise. "There are as many types of intelligence and learning as there are worlds." He took the clipboard from her and scanned it, eyes sharp. "Still, I see what you mean. The otters have clearly evolved to fill an environmental niche, and their speed of learning as at odds with it."

Candy cut in. "I wondered if it was us."

"You think being near humans is making them smarter?" I clarified after a pause.

"'Brains by osmosis,'" the Doctor said. "As ideas go, it's not a bad one, but you'd think they'd carry on getting smarter. Oh, hello—what this then?"

I peered around Ty as the Doctor moved closer to the new arrival's cage, pulled out the sonic, aimed it at the wall behind the cages, and turned it on. The otter growled and burrowed into the leaves in the cage.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, trying to see. "Oh."

We stopped. Highlighted by the sonic, scratched into the wall, was a rectangle about twice as tall as it was wide, with a bump on the top. I immediately recognized it.

"Did the otter do that?" whispered Candy.

"Right width for the claws," said the Doctor, a worried edge to his voice.

"But what is it?" asked Ty.

"It's his ship," I said. "The TARDIS."

"Looks like it's our lucky day, then," came a breathless voice form the door.

"Orlo?" said Candy to the sweating boy supporting himself on the doorframe.

"Now we've got two ships!" he panted. "I've found the One Small Step! And you'll never believe it—otters led me there."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I moaned and opened my eyes. I was lying in some sort of hospital ward/log cabin. A wide window on the other side of the room gave a view of low, spaced-out, hodgepodge house. The dull orange light reminded me of things I wasn't supposed to know. Sunday._

_Martha came into view. "Grace, how do you feel?"_

_I resisted the urge to say, "Shoes," like the Third Doctor. Instead, I coughed, "Ask me when it's over. Have I slept through a whole day?"_

_"Um… not sure. I was in the burrow with you…"_

_"Right."_

_"Thank you," she said quietly._

_"For what?" I mumbled, fidgeting. "I didn't choose to be attacked."_

_Martha gave me an odd look, as if she didn't quite believe me. Well, I've never been a convincing liar._

_"I'm thirsty," I said to distract her, which wasn't a lie. Visions of slimy tentacles made my mouth go dry._

_Martha went to a cabinet and got a glass of water. Hand shaking, I took it from her and swallowed it in one gulp. Instantly I felt much better. The coolness, the wetness of it felt so good, so right. For a moment, I just wanted to dive into an icy pool of a river of the sea…_

_I gasped, nearly dropping the cup._

_"Are you all right?" Martha asked, standing._

_Part of me was desperate to keep lucid, remember what was happening, but a much bigger part was far too disoriented to concentrate. "More water," I croaked._

_Martha had to leave the room, which almost made me hyperventilate. I noticed a clipboard and pen near the bed. The notes meant nothing to me, but I picked it up to keep myself from panicking. Absently, I unclipped the pen and tapped it against the clipboard. Just before I slipped back asleep, I remembered:_

_The otters will be destroying the dam keeping Sunday City flooded. Is that good or bad? Should I care? I need… to rest…_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

"And there's more," gasped Orlo, bending over and resting his palms on his thighs as he struggled for breath.

"What?" demanded Col, suddenly concerned. Orlo shook his head, unable to get the words out.

"The… the settlement," he finally managed. "The first settlement."

"What about it?"

"You can see it. Just the tops of the buildings. But they weren't there yesterday, I'd swear. I saw them when I went to check on the ship."

"The water level must be falling," mused the Doctor, tapping his bottom lip with his fingers.

"We need to tell everyone," Candy said. "Get them all out there—"

"Hold your horses a second," the Doctor cut in. "If the water level's suddenly falling, it has to be for a reason. Did he say otters led him to it? The last thing you want is everyone out there, scampering around like excited school kids on a fieldtrip when we don't really know what's going on."

"Doctor," Ty said, "this is our colony. And this is the biggest thing to happen since the floor. If we can get the settlement and the ship back…" She let the sentence tail off, leaving the possibilities unspoken.

"You'll what? Fly back home?" I asked.

Ty was aghast. "No way! We're here for the duration, Tegan. But if the ship's accessible, it means we'll be able to set up another generator using the ship's power core. We can stop having to burn wood every time the generator we've got packs in. And if we can find the smart-fabricator, we can get to work on the settlement properly."

The Doctor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Power core…? Just what kind of ship is this One Small Step of yours? What model?"

"It's a mark II world-builder," said Candy after a moment.

The Doctor's expression froze, his brows set in a thundery line. I knew what that meant.

"We humans have done it again, have we?" I said quietly, not feeling so well.

The Doctor ignored me. "A mark II? You're sure? Not the mark III?"

Candy shook her head. "Deffo—Orlo and I used to use the shipbrain on the journey for learning stuff. Right, Orlo?"

He nodded. "The welcome screen definitely had 'mark II' on it. Why? What's wrong?"

The Doctor had slumped back against the desk, his arms folded.

"You've got a problem with that?" asked Ty. I could see she was getting ratty.

"Not me that's going to have a problem with it," he said darkly. "I mean, you lot leave the Earth because it's overpopulated and polluted, looking for something new and better—and what do you do? You bring a mark II world-builder with you, a ship powered by one of the filthiest fission reactors your species has ever come up with." He shook his head. "It's like moving out of your house because the roof's leaking, and before you've even unpacked, you're up a ladder, ripping the slates off the new one!"

"And you'd know all about setting up a colony, would you, Doctor?" Ty's voice was edged with defensiveness.

"Well, I know quite a bit about how you humans go about it."

The way he said it made the hairs on my arms prickle. "You might wanna go a little lighter on the 'you humans' stuff, Doctor…"

"Why should I? I've lost count of the number of times that I've sung your praises, you know, told everyone about how endlessly inventive, how incredibly adventurous you lot are. Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat, battling against the odds, yadda yadda yadda." He fixed Ty and me with a dark gaze. "Now I have an injured teenager and a mark II! I tend to forget about the times when you're stupid, stubborn, and fail to learn from your mistakes."

"Cut Grace and me some slack," I said angrily. "We're new to all of this. We've barely had time to make mistakes, much less learn from them!"

Ty was gritting her teeth, hands on hips. "Setting up a new colony costs money, Doctor. Have you any idea how much a fusion generator costs? We bought the One Small Step because it had a fission generator and a spare core. It's the spare that we're using to generate our electricity. If we'd lose it in the flood we'd be struggling by on wood-burning and nothing else! When Sunday's established and the rest of the colonists arrive, then we'll trade the fission core for a fusion unit."

"And until then, you'll go on risking polluting this new Eden of yours, will you? Digging up uranium, creating waste that will still be around for your great-great-great-grandchildren to cope with. What's wrong with solar? Planetothermal? Wind-power? Tidal power, for goodness' sake!"

"Not viable here—believe me, we looked into them. And the experimental tidal generators we set up were washed away in the flood. Don't judge someone until you've walked in their shoes, Doctor," Ty warned.

"And what about the ship?" the Doctor added after a pause. "What about the generator aboard that? Just abandoned out there in the swamp, up to its gills in water."

"These things are built for safety, you know. It's not as if all the uranium is just going to wash out into the water."

He just shook his head sadly. "First things first," he said with a sigh. "We need to take a look at the settlement, see if we can work out why it's suddenly become visible. And then we can take a look at your ship, make sure you're not doing to Sunday what you've already done to the Earth. If the power core of the One Small Step has been breached, I'd dread to think what it might be leaking into the water. Orlo—you up for taking us out there?"

Orlo rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Finish your coffee," the Doctor said, patting the lad on the shoulder. "I want to check on Garace first. Back in a mo."

"I'm definitely coming!" I said, leaping to my feet.

He glanced around the room as we left. "Where's Col, by the way?"

I realized the Doctor was right—without so much as a "See you," Col had gone. Watching Candy's face, I figured she wouldn't be here long either. Half of me wanted to go with her, but the other half needed to see Grace.

She was asleep, her eyes flickering and darted under her eyelids. Nothing looks weirder than that.

"She's having some very vivid dreams," the Doctor muttered, making Dr. Hashmi jump. Martha didn't bat an eyelash at our sudden appearance. "How is she?"

Martha indicated the medial monitor suspended above Grace's bed. "She looks fine. Nothing that a few hours' sleep won't cure."

"And what do you make of those marks?" The Doctor indicated the pattern of dots around Grace's temples, now faded to little more than a mild rash.

"Probably where that thing grabbed her," Sam said. "Hopefully nothing more than a graze."

"Hmm," said the Doctor. "D'you have the results of her bloodwork? I'd like to be sure she's not been infected with anything. Anything alien."

"You think she—" I yelped.

"I've given her some shots, although the pathogens around here are fairly benign. I wouldn't worry that she's picked anything too bad up."

I opened my mouth, about to say, "Oh, that's good," when the Doctor fixed him with a stare. "I'd like to be sure," he said.

Sam checked his watch.

"Dr. Hashmi," said Martha firmly, "we all want to be very sure that Grace doesn't have an infection. Got it?"

He coughed. "Well, they should be back in an hour or so—sorry it's taken so long, but our path lab is a bit makeshift. Doubles up for just about every bit of bioanalysis we need around here. And apparently they've brought back some skeletons—from the nests." I saw Martha shiver. "Found quite a few of them. They're having a look at them to see if they can work out who they are and how they died."

The Doctor nodded silently, took Grace's hand, and gave it a squeeze. "Take good care of her," he said. "I just got her."

Then he leaned in to Martha. "And you take good care of yourself, Martha Jones. You've had a fright too. We've got a date, remember? At Tiffany's." He gave a little chuckle. "But before that, we'll need to get both of you new frocks. Garace didn't even try, did she? Well, yellow, I think—that's the color of nobility on Arkon. Should suit you two down to the ground. Or the knees, at least."

And with that, he was gone, leaving me wondering if I got a dress too.

"Arkon? What's Arkon?" Martha asked, her smile uncertain.

Dr. Hashmi picked up the clipboard from beside Grace's bed. "Someone's doodled all over it," he said.

I leaned over. It only took a few moments to realize what the circular sketch was: a picture of a planet, with rough continents drawn on it. And engulfing it, with eight smooth fingers or talons, was a hand.

"I hope that's not like 'Fear Her,'" I whispered and ran out after the Doctor.

I found him back at the zoo lab, where Ty was packing a thermos of coffee and some sandwiches for our hike to the original Sunday City. Orlo looked a bit reluctant to trudge back there—especially after racing back to the zoo lab fill tilt. But with a bit of chivvying from the Doctor, he soon went along with it.

"Should have brought Candy," Orlo said as we made our way through the forest. True to my suspicions, she had vanished. "She's a good swimmer—she could have gone down there and taken a look."

"The last thing we want," said the Doctor, taking off his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder, "is another Garace diving into those waters."

"You think there might be more?" asked Ty, not having to specify what "more" she meant. She struggled to keep up with the Doctor's pace, but, well, so did I. "The reports that returned with the skeletons suggested that quite a few of the nests might have creatures living in their water pools. Eleven skeletons all together, all in the same state, in five different nests. And in four of those were signs of something thrashing about in the water."

"I wouldn't be surprised," the Doctor answered. He seemed distracted—no doubt worried about Grace. I was relieved that our earlier spat seemed to have been forgotten.

"Why haven't we seen one of these tentacled things before?" Ty asked.

The Doctor could only shrug.

"Maybe they've been hiding," I said. "Maybe they only live in the otter nests. Maybe the meteor disturbed them."

"Now there's a thought," interrupted the Doctor. "But you should know, Tegan, that when a meteor survives and hits a planet, it's called a meteorite."

"What's a thought?" asked Ty. "That the meteorite disturbed them?"

The Doctor really didn't answer but strode out ahead. I heard Ty sigh in exasperation. "Fascinating and charismatic the Doctor may be…"

"But he can also be very irritating," I finished, running to catch up to him. "Process out loud for me," I said.

The Doctor breathed the pleasant late-morning air deeply. I followed his example. It was warm, citrusy, piney—alien. Wow, I thought.

"They say that travel broadens the mind—they never mention how it broadens the senses too," I murmured.

"Right you are, and if I wasn't so worried about Garace and the TARDIS I'd be able to use one of my own senses—my commonsense—and put two and two together. Sometimes, really, I can just be too clever," he responded.

I held my tongue.

"Ty said she's never before seen the tentacle things that attacked Garace. Yet she's a zoologist and she's spent a good few months studying the animal life in this area of Sunday. How likely is it that she could have missed them—or at least missed clues to their existence? So if the creatures weren't around before the flood, and now they are… Two and two," he said worriedly. "Two and two…"

We reached the peak of a small hill overlooking the lake where the first Sunday City had drowned that night. Strange how the site of such a tragedy could look so peaceful—almost idyllic. I could almost imagine row boats drifting gently across it. I remembered the map the Doctor had pulled out—like Earth, Sunday was mainly ocean. Unlike Earth, however, it was almost entirely ocean. The planet could have been chosen as a good colony world precisely because of all that water. Ironic that that water had nearly wiped the colony out. "Good thing humanity's tough old sticks," I said out loud.

"Even if they have hoiked a great big old mucky nuclear power plant light years across space," the Doctor responded.

Orlo had been right. Sticking up out of the placid water, like the prows of capsized ships, were the tops of at least a dozen buildings. Now they were grey and green, matted with silt and algae. Even the night's rain hadn't washed them clean. I tried to imagine them shining and new before the meteor—meteorite—struck.

The Doctor scanned the forest for any sign of the One Small Step, but it was out of sight beyond the trees.

"The water's dropped even further," said Orlo in disbelief, discarding his backpack by the side of the otter cage that he'd abandoned earlier. "At this rate it'll be dry in a couple of days!"

The Doctor shielded his eyes from the orange sun almost directly overhead and gazed out along the river. It curved around a chunk of green headland and disappeared towards the sea.

Ty was at his side. "Take us at least an hour to walk out to where the river silted up."

"If the water level's dropping this quickly," the Doctor said, lowering his hand from his eyes, "then it must be going somewhere. And short of someone pulling a plug out of the bottom of the river, the only sensible place is back to the sea." He looked her in the eye. "Up for it?"

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I'd never had a dream or a nightmare this solid and vivid._

_I was standing in a vast, mirror-smooth lake that stretched to the horizon all around me. The sky above was a deep blue, untouched by clouds. High overhead burned a tiny white sun, but when I stared up at it, it didn't hurt my eyes. The lake must have been shallow, since it only came to my waist._

_Suddenly, as I looked down, the waters around me began to froth and seethe as something under the surface moved violently. I stared at the boiling white foam rising rapidly around me, unable to move, unable to cry out. Something strong and powerful grabbed my ankles and began to pull me under. Thrashing my arms about, trying to remain upright, I opened my mouth to scream as the water flooded in—_

_—and then I was sitting bolt upright in the bed, sobbing and shuddering. "Doctor!" I cried. I opened my eyes, hoping to see…_

_But the man who rushed over wasn't my Doctor at all. "I'm here," said the not-Doctor wearing a pale green coat—at least I imagined that it was pale green; the orange light flooding in from the window made judging colors a bit tricky—with a nametag that read "Dr. Sam Hashmi."_

_"She didn't mean you." I saw Martha, her arms crossed. "He's not here, Grace, but he did stop by to make sure you were okay."_

_Dr. Hashmi tried to make me lie back down. "Just a dream. You're fine."_

_For a moment, I was lucid enough to know that everything was not fine. I knew what I was about to do and I was dreading it. This is what I get for taking Martha's bullets…_

_Dr. Hasmi nodded and passed me the glass from beside the bed than I'd drunk from earlier, now refilled. I gulped it down gratefully, feeling it soothe the burning I felt inside._

_"The Doctor rescued us from the otters," Martha said._

_"I remember that," I said. "But I didn't think the otters were so much the problem."_

_Martha cracked a very little smile, refilling my water glass and passing it back to me. I couldn't remember why I was so thirsty, but I glugged it down, not caring that it spilled down my chin and onto the hospital gown I'd been dressed in while I'd slept._

_"Where is he?" I asked. Something I should have remembered._

_"The Doctor?" said Sam. "I think he's gone with Ty and Orlo—back to the settlement. The first one."_

_Martha looked confused, and I should have, but I actually knew what he meant. "And Tegan?"_

_"With him," Martha answered, adding, "probably. What first settlement?"_

_"The one that drowned in the flood," Dr. Hashmi said. "Sunday City."_

_Martha still looked blank. I laughed hoarsely, and she looked at me. "How come you know what they're talking about and I don't?"_

_"I don't know either," I protested. A lie. "Just the look on your face. You had better fill her—us—in," I said to Dr. Hashmi. "More water."_

_We got a briefing on the history of Sunday. Martha looked a bit cross that she also now had to keep up with the Doctor's harebrained adjudicator story._

_"Martha, you stayed behind," I suddenly realized. "To look after me? You… didn't have to."_

_Martha looked at me—kind, maybe a little puzzled, but not about to take any crap. "Yeah, I did. You know, I'm a medical student. You were injured, and now you're my patient."_

_I'll admit this touched me and, oddly, guilt-tripped me. "Thank you."_

_"Let's leave Grace to her rest," Sam said, checking the monitor hanging above my head. "By the way…" He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to me. "Does this mean anything?"_

_I stared at the paper, feeling sick. It was the sheet that had been on the clipboard earlier, the one with my medical notes I hadn't understood. But now, scrawled all over it, was a picture. The worst was that I knew exactly what was happening…_

_A me that wasn't me lashed out at Martha and the doctor with my fists. I screamed a deep, animalistic howl, kicking off the sheets and staggering to my feet. The two of them backed away, terrified at the change that had come over me. Martha was the first to recover as I raised my hands like claws, spittle flying from my lips, and advanced toward them._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Well, well, well… what have we here?" The Doctor, Ty, Orlo, and I crawled over the peak of the hill and peered down the slope to where the river narrowed. Swarming around the site of the dam that was blocking the flood's retreat, splashing in and out of the water, were hundreds and hundreds of otters. I wondered if the Doctor's desire for a new otter was just crazy talk. Of course, the Doctor's madness usually had a method.

"It's incredible," whispered Ty. "I've never seen so many in one place. I had no idea they were so social." She shook her head.

"Organized, yes," muttered the Doctor. "Not so sure about social, though."

"But look!"

"I know, I know—but don't you think there's something a bit odd about it? A bit manic. A bit forced."

I could see what he meant. The otters dove in and out of the water in a frenzy, carrying little pats of mud in their paws and slapping them onto the dozens of dark grey piles along the banks. It almost made me want to laugh.

"You don't think this is natural?" I asked.

"Spot on. There's something very unnatural about this whole thing." He rolled onto his side and faced Orlo. "So, you up for catching another one of those little fellers?"

Orlo grinned.

"Good lad. What about you, Tegan?" He fixed me with a cheeky look. He was testing me.

"Oh yes!" I grinned at him.

"Come on, then!"

Ty huffed herself to her knees and watched as the Doctor, equipped with only his jacket; Orlo, carrying a sack; and I, empty-handed, cautiously descended the slope. We split up and started a pincer movement on one of the mud piles, trying to keep the pile between us and the otters. The Doctor nodded to Orlo and me as yet another otter splashed onto the bank and bounced along on its hind legs toward the pile with a great glob of mud in its paws. A steady, growing trickle of water spilled over the top of the dam, back towards the sea.

Orlo was a big, rather slow lad. I, on the other hand, am very small and can scurry. As he held the sack out in front of him, I slipped behind the otter to cut it off from the rest and herd it toward him. A couple of the other otters threw me a glance, but they just scampered back into the water.

Now I was in position between the puzzled otter and the river. The Doctor crept out from behind the mud with his coat. The otter heard him, panicked, and darted to one side of Orlo, who sidestepped and lunged. I stepped a little closer, causing the otter to freeze before backing up in the Doctor's direction, casting nervous looks over its shoulder at his advance.

The Doctor feinted left, and as the otters slipped right, he threw himself towards it, arms and jacket outstretched—and missed by a mile. I stopped being helpful and burst out laughing. The otter bounded away uphill as fast as its paws could carry it.

Orlo staggered after it, sack raised, as the Doctor rolled along the ground and sprang to his feet. His eyes wide and crazy, he charged up the hill, hot on the otter's heels.

"This is madness," Ty sighed loudly from the top of the hill, exasperated. I watched her stand up, in plain view of the otter, who scrabbled to a halt in the soft mud. With a shake of her head, Ty reached into her pocket, pulled out a tranquillizer gun, and shot the otter in the shoulder. It wheezed and toppled over.

The mud-spattered Doctor's face as he heaved himself to his feet was priceless. I laughed even more violently than he glared at Ty. "You had that in your pocket all along?" he growled. "That." He jabbed a finger at the tranquillizer gun in her hand, stunned. "That!"

"You didn't think I'd come out here unarmed after everything that's happened, did you?" Ty said while I tried to catch my breath, coming up the hill (which is quite a trick).

"And you didn't think to use it earlier?" The Doctor shook mud from his jacket, and I suspected drops were landing on Ty on purpose. "Have you any idea how hard it is to find a good dry cleaner in this part of the galaxy?" He held the jacket out at arm's length and stared at it sadly. "Ruined. Ruined!"

"Oh, I hope not," I said, finally feeling his pain. Sort of. I mean, he had looked ridiculous.

"Come on!" laughed Ty, pocketing the gun. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that. Tegan and I did."

"Yeah, I kinda did."

The Doctor turned and gave me a silent-but-deadly look as Orlo came panting up, the tranquillized otter cradled in his arms. "Let's get this into the cage back at the lab," the Doctor said briskly.

"Why the hurry?" I asked.

"Wellll," drawled the Doctor, "for one thing, I want to see how quickly its intelligence develops. And two…" He peered at something over our shoulders, down the slope.

I jumped and whirled to see a carpet of wriggling brown bodies flashing silver where the sunlight reflected off their still-wet fur. It made its way up the bank—towards us.

I looked at the Doctor, who raised an eyebrow. "How's that for two?"

The running began.

I got the feeling the Doctor was holding back for our sakes. He'd snatched the otter to lighten Orlo's load and didn't even break his stride. "Grab my jacket!" he said as we ran along the slope, parallel to the river—the quickest way back to the settlement. Ahead of us, down along the edge of the water, I saw the remains of the old city poking through. The level had dropped even further in the last hour and a half.

"Sonic screwdriver, right?" I grabbed the Doctor's jacket from the crook of his arm. "Which pocket?"

"Inside. Other one—that's it!" The situation was so dire, he didn't think to question how I knew about the sonic screwdriver.

The jacket flailing around in my hands as we ran, I proffered the sonic. "Sahib."

The smile he gave made me feel like a proper companion. He stopped dead and handed the snoring otter to Orlo. "Take it and go, you three. Get back to the settlement. Tell them what we've seen."

Ty just stared at him, at the brown and silver tide coming toward us, and then at Orlo. "Come on," I urged, grabbing her arm. "Remember how the otter in the lab reacted to the sonic? And the—tentacle from the nest? He'll be fine!"

Ty squeezed the Doctor's arm and, with a helpless look, grabbed Orlo in turn. We ran.

"Now," I heard the Doctor mutter, whirling to face the otters. "Let's just hope…"

The rest I lost in distance and the ultrasound from the screwdriver as he aimed and pressed the button. Looking over my shoulder frequently, I saw the Doctor stick his finger in his ear. Then the otters at the leading edge skidded to a messy, tumbling halt, some of them falling bum-over-head in their haste. The others behind crashed into them as if they hit a wall. More and more piled up, writhing and squeaking.

"Go, sonic, go!" I shouted back in encouragement. The last stragglers were blocked, screeching. The Doctor slipped the sonic into his trouser pocket and sprinted off after us.

,.,.,.,.,

The Doctor arrived back at the zoo lab just as Ty, Orlo, and I fastened the cage door on our newest recruit.

"Doctor!" cried Ty with relief, flinging herself at him and giving him a huge bear hug.

_Aw, that's not fair,_ I thought._ Just 'cause I wasn't worried about him…_

"Numbers eight and nine," the Doctor wheezed.

"Eight and nine what?" Ty asked, letting go.

"Ribs—that you've just broken," the Doctor gasped, rubbing his sides. Ty began to apologize, but he grinned, "They'll heal. Now we've got work to do. How is he?" He gestured at the still-snoring otter.

"Seems fine. Should come around in about half an hour."

"Good, good," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "Now—this…" He quickly grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the desk and began scribbling. "…is what I need, equipment-wise. Think you can rustle this up for me? Or at least point me in the right direction." He shoved the paper into Ty's hand and strode over to inspect the new otter. "We've got to work fast," he said. "The otters are demonstrating distinctly purposeful behavior. We have that—" he indicated the scratched outline on the wall—"to prove they're aware of the TARDIS. And I've just seen them going into one of the exposed buildings from the first settlement. A cartload of them—cartload? Is that the word? What's the collective noun for otters?" He snapped repeatedly and then beamed a huge grin. "Romp! That's the word! Romp! Well," he added, "one of them at least, but certainly my favorite. Isn't that lovely? 'A romp of otters.'"

I smiled, but Orlo and Ty stared blankly.

"Please yourselves. Anyway, how're you getting on with the list, Ty?"

She scratched her head. "What's a 'planar thesiogram'? And this one. A 'follengular beam… beamcaster'?"

I leaned over her arm to take a glance. "Oh, that? That's bad handwriting."

The Doctor looked slightly guilty. "Scusi. Feeling a bit puckish. That's a 'full English breakfast.' First of all, though, Tegan and I need to check on Garace."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"Are these really necessary?" demanded the Doctor, pointing at the leather restraints that fastened Grace's wrists and ankles to the bed. "I hate to see anyone tied down."

I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing. In her sleep, Grace growled and thrashed her head from side to side. Her face was slick with sweat.

"It's for her own safety as much as anyone else's," Sam Hashmi said apologetically.

Martha just stared into the Doctor's eyes. "She was…" She stumbled for words.

"Like an animal?" suggested the Doctor. Sam and Martha nodded. I suddenly felt very sick to my stomach. I wasn't sure whether my emotions were going to come out as a sob or as vomiting. Luckily for all those concerned, I sobbed.

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry, Tegan. I brought you two here. I should have taken better care of her. If I'd gone straight to find the TARDIS, this might never have happened. Sometimes I get so caught up in things—"

Martha stopped him, touching his arm. "I feel as bad as you do."

I leaned over Grace and touched her forehead with the backs of my fingers. She flinched; her body arched up from the bed and then collapsed back.

"What medication have you given her?" the Doctor asked without looking up.

Martha's voice sounded flat and unhopeful. "Antipyretics to bring her fever down and some broad-spectrum antibiotics to help counter the infection."

The Doctor leaned back and looked up at the display above Grace's bed. For a few moments he scanned it, taking in all the readings. "It's not an infection," he said suddenly, more to himself than to us.

"It's not?"

He shook his head. "It's an allergic reaction—look at these readings. What are her histamine levels?"

Martha took the clipboard from a fumbling Sam. "You're right," she said, excited we were getting somewhere. "And it's on a massive scale!"

"She's close to antiphylactic shock. We need adrenaline or epinephrine or whatever you're calling it these days."

"I'm on it." Sam rushed off to get the drug while the Doctor continued to calm Grace down.

"What's her surname?" he asked me.

"Huh? …Oh. Anscombe."

"Don't you worry, Garace Anscombe," he whispered. "We're going to pull you through this. All of us."

"And then we're going to Tiffany's for that breakfast he promised," I added. Martha smiled.

The Doctor nodded, trying to sound positive. "You're going to find out how seriously I take promises." He lowered his voice. "Somewhere under the fever, she hears us. See? She almost relaxed—"

Grace's eyes opened blearily. Her irises were black holes sunk into the dull green of her corneas.

"What color are her eyes normally?" the Doctor asked.

"Er, brown," I answered.

He considered this. "Ah."

"Grace," I whispered, "can you hear us?"

She moaned and stared at me with those cold, alien eyes. "Too dry," she murmured. "Must go back… back to the water…" She closed her eyes and sank back into the damp pillow.

"Why?" urged the Doctor, kicking to life too late. "Why have you got to go?"

Grace just flexed her wrists against the straps, moaning again.

"Here we are," Sam said suddenly, elbowing us away. In his hand he held a syringe. "It may take awhile to kick in."

I squeezed Grace's right hand as the Doctor squeezed Martha's. Scanning the monitor, even I could see that the adrenaline was working. Grace's breathing became less labored and painful. After a few minutes, the Doctor announced we could do nothing more for her now.

"But there is something I have to find out," he said mysteriously. "Martha, let me know when she comes round." He and I headed out the door. I turned and glanced back in the direction of my friend. The Doctor noticed. "You can stay, if you want. I'm all right."

I smiled wistfully. "Maybe, but I'm not. 'Cause, as sick as it makes me…I need to know what's going on. Not out of anger, or hatred, or a need for revenge, I just need to know."

The Doctor briefly raised an eyebrow. "You're amazing, you know that? You are a-ma-zing! An allergic reaction to alien substances is eating your best friend alive, and what drives you to investigate? Morbid curiosity!"

The way he said it, it was very difficult to tell if he was pleased with me or not, which I think was the point. However, he didn't send me back, so we headed off towards the zoo lab.

Unfortunately, we bumped into Pallister on our way across the square, and he would not be ignored.

"Ahh," the Doctor replied after Pallister had called his name several times. "Mr. Lassiter."

"Pallister," the man corrected, the corner of his mouth twitching angrily. He was the very picture of a furious Carlton Lassiter from Psych. "There's a Council meeting this evening. I'd like to know what I can tell them about your presence here."

"As soon as I find out, you'll be the first to know."

Pallister's eyes widened. "You don't know why you're here?"

"Oh, I know why we're here." The Doctor leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Trouble."

"Trouble? What sort of trouble?"

The Doctor looked around as if we might be overheard and yanked me into the circle. "The worst kind of trouble, if you take my meaning. There's something bad going on here, Mr. Pallister. Something very bad indeed—and I'm going to get to the bottom of it." He paused for effect. "It's what I do." Another pause. "Right, Miss Young?"

"Yes, sir; of course, sir; always, sir."

With that, the Doctor shook Pallister's hand and rushed us off to the zoo lab, leaving the councilor dumfounded in the middle of the square.

"I don't know, Doctor," I said disapprovingly. "You might be losing your touch."

"How?" he demanded.

I clicked my tongue. "You actually used his proper name that time. Next you'll be calling Grace, well, 'Grace.' "

,.,.,.,.,.,

"Swab," said the Doctor sternly, holding out his hand, palm up.

"What?" Ty stared.

"Sorry. Getting carried away there. Just pass those scissors, will you?"

He set about clipping the hair around the otter's head. "Well, sir," he said cheerily, "going anywhere nice for your holidays? Really? Lovely! See the game last night?" He snipped and tutted, rolling his eyes. "We were robbed, weren't we, eh? That last-minute penalty, eh?"

"What are you on about?" asked Ty as we helped pick away the tufts of fur where the Doctor reached the skin.

"The usual," I said. "Nothing."

"Hairdresser's banter," grinned the Doctor. He paused and squinted at his handiwork. "He's not going to be too happy with that when he comes round. Never mind—bit of gel'll sort it out. Maybe some extensions. Or a hat. Oooh, there we are: look!"

Ty and I peered closer: speckling the surface of the skin in a broad band across its head, stretching from ear to ear, were tiny dark-red dots.

"It's the same as on Grace!" I exclaimed.

"What are you doing?" asked Ty as the Doctor handed her a syringe.

"Like to do the honors? Cerebrospinal fluid, please—five millimeters."

Ty filled the syringe with brownish-pink liquid. "What are we looking for?"

"I'll tell you when we've found it. Right!" He took the syringe from Ty and held it up to the light. "Let's get this over to the bio lab. I have a feeling it might be just the breakthrough we need."

,.,.,.,.,.,

"Proteins!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Now why am I not surprised?"

"Because you're thick," I joked. "How does this help Grace?"

The Doctor put on his brainy specs. "Look at that! Now that is interesting." He stood back proudly and folded his arms.

The picture on the screen meant nothing to me, but Ty asked, "Are we looking at a protein synthesis?" The Doctor just raised an eyebrow. "That," she continued, tracing a long, twisty thread, "is RNA, right? And it's controlling the manufacture of these proteins." She dabbed at three or four other images.

"Go on," the Doctor said approvingly. "What's RNA for?"

"Ribonucleic acid is involved in the replication of DNA."

"And what else has RNA been implicated in?"

Ty frowned. "Not memories, surely? That idea was discredited on Earth decades ago."

"We're not on Earth anymore, Toto," the Doctor reminded her with a grin.

"You do, of course, realize she won't get that reference," I said.

"So…" Ty shook her head in disbelief. "You're saying that these proteins and this RNA contain memories? Those things in the otter nests are implanting memories into the otters?"

"Not just the memories," the Doctor said gravely, "and not just the otters. Those are the results from Garace."

My eyes widened. "What? Is this somehow connected to the otters' braininess?"

The Doctor took off his specs and twirled them. "When Ty catches the otters, they're dim but violent, and after just a couple of days they turn clever and friendly. Those proteins are just what you'd need to stimulate aggression and suppress intelligence."

"So the otters aren't actually getting cleverer," Ty said slowly, "but returning to their normal level of smartness. The proteins hold them back, but once those are gone…"

The Doctor nodded. "In the meantime, they're creating an allergic reaction in Garace's body." He pursed up his lips and narrowed his eyes. "But as to why…"

He turned suddenly. "The skeletons you found—have they received a good going over?"

Ty nodded. "They were all people who disappeared in the flood; dental records are clear."

"Causes of death?"

"Impossible to tell from the skeletons. I assumed they drowned, but they all have holes in their chests or their heads—different sizes, from fists to pinpricks."

The Doctor chewed thoughtfully on the arm of his glasses. "Sounds to me like someone or something has been experimenting."

"Experimenting?" I repeated.

"With human bodies, working out how they work, how to get inside them. We could really do with understanding why, what those slimy little pets of the otters are up to." His eyes lit up, and he grinned. "You wanna know what we need to decode the RNA and the proteins? The most advanced biological computer I can think of."

"Here?" Ty scoffed. "You're lucky we've got all of this. Where d'you think you're going to lay hands on that?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, giving her his "I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am" stare. I groaned. "I think we're looking at it."

"You're mad!" cried Ty.

"One man's madness is another man's, erm, poison," the Doctor replied. "Say hello to the Doctor-o-tronic."

"Exactly," Ty reiterated. "This stuff is poison. Look what it's done to Grace!"

I added, "And you're going to, what, inject it into yourself?"

The Doctor pressed his lips together and took one each of my and Ty's hands. "If there was another choice…" he said gently. "We need to know what those slime-things are putting into the otters and Garace. Your equipment here isn't that sophisticated, but this—" he tapped his temple—"is!"

Ty shook her head firmly.

"Use me," I said impulsively. "Inject it into me."

"Like Garace? Humans might be clever, but I'm brilliant!" He smiled.

"How d'you know you won't get strapped to a bed like Grace?" Ty asked.

He eyed her for a few seconds. "I'm Garace's best chance. I brought her here. I at least owe her this much."

A heavy silence fell among us, punctuated only by the bleeps and bloops of the lab equipment. I knew the Doctor wasn't going to give in. We just waited for Ty.

She gave him a hard stare. "I'll not be a part of this. I'm going to look for Candy." She made for the door, then stopped. "But Doctor... good luck."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

_I woke up, drenched in sweat, my hospital gown and bed sheets clinging to me. For a moment, I had no idea where I was: a dimly lit room, a lemony, timbery smell in my nostrils. And then it came back to me—everything._

_"How are you feeling?"_

_I jumped as Martha appeared out of the gloom, peering at me worriedly._

_"Where's Tegan?" I asked. "And where's the Doctor?"_

_"Dr. Hashmi? I'm not sure."_

_"Martha, I meant—"_

_She looked away. "I know what you meant. I just… truthfully, I don't know that either. You know him… keeps running off. Tegan's with him."_

_"We should find them," I said._

_Martha glanced into the air above me, and I followed her gaze to see some sort of display screen hanging over my head, showing an augmented view of my body with numerous winking lights and flickering patches on it. "How am I?" I ventured._

_Martha smiled cautiously. "He was right again. We pumped you full of every antihistamine and epinephrine analogue this place has, and it seems to have done the trick. We've damped down your body's allergic reaction to whatever's inside you."_

_I let out a sigh and gripped the edge of the sheets, but Martha put her hand on mine before I could throw them off. I guessed that she'd taken the restraints off me—probably without Dr. Hashmi's permission—as soon as she'd seen I was no longer dangerous._

_"I want to find them too," she said, "but Dr. Hashmi and I think you should have a bit more rest. Your body's very weak—we've had to feed you intravenously."_

_I noticed the tube taped to the back of my wrist. "Get it off," I said._

_Martha looked at me, then over her shoulder. "Dr. Hashmi will be back in ten minutes."_

_"So? We'll be gone in two. Just get me real clothes."_

_Martha pursed her lips. I smiled. And she grinned back. "All right."_

_Two minutes later, the IV tube out of my hand with a wince, I was out of bed, clothed, and feeling decidedly wobbly._

_"If I were back at Royal Hope and my patients behaved like this, the staff would have screamed blue murder," Martha muttered._

_"This is different," I protested._

_Keeping her ears and eyes out for the staff, Martha had padded to the far end of the ward and found a locker containing my clothes, washed but slightly tatty. While I tore into them, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror above the hand basin: I looked tired, drawn, and had huge bags under my eyes. I'd lost some weight, and not in a good way. My hair, unfashionable at the best of times, was lank and flopping over my forehead. I half-heartedly pushed it back, but it just dropped down again._

_"Time for that later," I said aloud. At least Martha had found my Converse—muddy purple instead of clean, but actually not too smelly. "The things I do…"_

_Checking again to make sure no one had seen us, Martha and I headed out into the night. The twilight was falling, but the air was pleasantly cool after the afternoon shower, and everything smelled of summer and holidays abroad._

_We slipped out of the hospital and found ourselves in the middle of some sort of town square, paved with huge, flat sheets of what looked like shiny concrete. I was bordered by low, wooden buildings, and I remembered the view I'd had from the hospital earlier in the day. There were few people about and no one who bothered about us._

_I tried to remember where the Doctor would be. And I did. Oh, crap. I really don't want to see this, do I? I realized. This is cosmic revenge that we were too late for "42"…_

_"Think it through," Martha told herself aloud. "Where would he be? It was something important to keep him away from us. He said he had to find out something…"_

_"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," I suggested._

_"No way you're backing out now," Martha said._

_"Look!" I said, pointing to moving shadows at the base of one of the buildings, glad for a distraction. "Otters!"_

_"There are dozens of them," Martha whispered. "Okay, now we really need the Doctor."_

_I was about to say that what we really needed to do was warn everyone. Pallister would be holding that meeting with the Council, panicking about the Doctor's adjudicator story. But I stopped to wonder if that would be too much fiddling with previously established events, and Martha was hauling me up wooden steps and straight through the double doors of a building. Standing in a small reception room, talking to a small, red-haired woman behind a curved desk, was Sam Hashmi._

_We four stared at each other for awhile._

_"Where is he?" Martha snapped, taking charge. Good ole Martha._

_"Martha, what are you doing with Grace?" he said._

_She ignored him, pushing him away from me. Another set of double doors was straight ahead of us. "Come on," she said, marching._

_"You can't go in there," Sam called, and I was inclined to agree, but Martha would have ignored me too. We raced through the doors, letting them flap back in his face._

_"Grace! Martha!" he called. "You can't—"_

_He broke off as we reached a door on our left, a circular glass porthole set in it. I almost skidded into Martha as she halted and pressed her palms against the door._

_Martha swore hoarsely, shaking her head. "No, no…"_

_I closed my eyes briefly and pushed open the doors, stepping into the room. Almost in a trance, Martha came in behind me._

_Almost immediately someone called my name and enveloped me in a hug. I held on tight, feeling tears stinging my eyes. "Tegan, it is so good to see you," I croaked. "We haven't talked since the TARDIS—"_

_"It's been forever! Are you okay now?"_

_"Yeah, I think I am. I know I am. That's a thing I have to tell you—I know—"_

_Martha pulled us apart. "Tegan, what's going on?" She pointed shakily toward the bed in the room, lit by a single spotlight from above. Tegan and I parted almost magically as Martha approached. The patient on the bed thrashed about, growling like an animal and grunting horribly, strapped down at the wrists and ankles._

_That was the worst part, the straps. It was a million times worse in person, unbearable to see him of all people shackled._

_"Oh, Doctor," Martha moaned._

_At the sound of her voice, the Doctor threw his head up, his pale, sweaty face shining like a full moon in the light. His teeth were bared and his lips were wet with saliva, dripping down his chin onto his shirt._

_"I take it back," I whispered to Tegan. "It's worse than '42.'"_

_The Doctor's eyes flashed open—they were totally dark. A green-black sheen swirled across them like oil, rainbow patterns reflecting back from the lamp._

_"You," he grunted, more spittle flying from his lips. "All of you. Will… be… ME!"_

_"What have you done?" cried Martha, raising a hand toward the Doctor as he continued to growl and snarl. The bed rattled as he tugged at the wrist straps. He stared at us with those dead, dark eyes and something pulled his lips into a vicious parody of a smile._

_"He wanted to do it," said Tegan._

_"Do what?" Martha asked._

_"He said it was the only way," said Tegan, clutching my hand. I squeezed back and reached out to take Martha's hand, but she pushed it away angrily, unable to tear her eyes off him. He suddenly collapsed back on the bed, moaning gently as his eyelids closed._

_"The only way to what? He's let that thing touch him, hasn't he?"_

_No one had to clarify the "thing."_

_"No," said Tegan firmly, causing Martha to look at her properly. "No, he hasn't. He had us inject him with the same proteins and RNA that the 'thing' injected into Grace."_

_"What? You're mad!" Martha spat. She shot a glare at me, not as if she thought it was my fault, but because she wanted me to back her up._

_I had known it was coming, and I didn't want to blow up in Tegan's face, but that didn't make it better. "That thing has been in me, and you saw it, saw what it did to me. Why would you just let him?"_

_"Do you really think I could've stopped him?" Tegan snapped. I saw in her eyes that she hated this as much as I did. "Ty already bailed on him. I wasn't about to." _

_Now that I look back on it, I probably should have asked who Ty was, but I was preoccupied._

_The Doctor growled and hissed again, his eyes flashing darkly as if they had the power to devour them all. Martha's shoulders sagged and she stared at him pinned out on the bed like a live lab rat about to be dissected._

_That was a terrible mental picture._

_"His body's fighting it," Tegan said gently._

_Martha rounded on her, riled by her calm and reasonable tone of voice. "And what if it doesn't?"_

_"Hers did," Tegan pointed out, looking at me._

_"He's not like me," I said, and faltered. I couldn't remember how much he'd told us about his not being human. Had the Doctor had actually mentioned it since we had joined him, or could this piece of knowledge would get us into trouble?_

_Martha looked back at the Doctor, as if drawing a comparison. I looked back at the bed, too. The same thing that happened to me was happening to the Doctor. I knew that he was strong, I knew he wasn't human, I knew how it would turn out—but what if something went wrong? Tegan and I—well, mostly me—had already changed things._

_"Grace, Tegan," Martha said in a very serious voice, looking at a display panel hanging above the Doctor, much like the one that had been over my own bed. "How much has he told you about himself—the Doctor? Because you're right; he's not like you." _

_Tegan managed a smile. "Oh, that." She gestured to the display panel Martha had been looking at. It showed the pale blue outline of a body, numerous patches of color and flashing dots around it and on it. And pulsing on the chest there were two reddish circles, one over each lung. They flashed alternately._

_"I figured it out. He has two hearts," Tegan said a little too cheerfully. "Grace, isn't that awesome?"_

_"I was wondering about the pattern they beat in," Martha agreed, looking as if she was trying not to look as if we were frantically thinking of what to say._

_Suddenly there was a scream from the reception area and a loud, indecipherable shout. The doors slammed open and the red-haired receptionist rushed in, her face pale._

_"They're out there—in reception," she stammered. "Otters."_

_Martha and I exchanged glances. Her guilty look instructed me not to say, "I told you so!"_

_"Lock the door!" Tegan shouted, remarkably quick-thinking. "Block it with something!"_

_Martha rushed to the double doors and grabbed the handles just as they began to shake and rattle. Tegan ran to help, and I brought over a drip stand and pushed it through the handles, barring the door._

_"Where else could they get in?" Martha demanded. "Quick! C'mon!"_

_I glanced through a door at the far side of the Doctor's bed and darted over to shut and lock it._

_"That's it?" said Martha, scanning the room. There were just the two doors—and a window, with heavy wooden shutters already closed._

_I gave a start as the double doors, still barred, began to rattle ominously. I suddenly wondered where Ty was, but I couldn't ask because I hadn't even met her, and had only heard her name once._

_"What do they want? Why are they acting like this? They're supposed to be harmless," Martha asked._

_"Remember the proteins," Tegan explained to us. "From the slime-things. They make them more aggressive."_

_"Like they changed Grace and the Doctor," Martha observed._

_We glanced at him again. He seemed to be sleeping, although his eyes flickered and darted about under his eyelids and his hands clenched and unclenched._

_"What about everyone else?" the redheaded receptionist said, her voice tiny and scared._

_"If they've any sense," Martha said, "they'll have barricaded themselves in." She paused. "Do we have any weapons? Guns, anything like that?"_

_"We're in a biology laboratory," I said drearily._

_"Drugs, then—tranquillizers."_

_Tegan's eyes lit up. "I remember tranquillizers back at the zoo lab."_

_"We'd need to get past the otters to get to them," Martha said, pressing her lips firmly together._

_Props to Tegan. "Wait!" she said suddenly, rushing over to the side of the Doctor's bed where his jacket was draped over a chair. She rooted about in the pockets and finally produced the sonic screwdriver. "He used it to keep them back when we were attacked earlier."_

_Martha gave me a look that said, "Just because you were out cold I had to miss all of these adventures he had with another woman."_

_"Good," she said aloud, snatching the screwdriver from Tegan. "What setting did he have it on?"_

_"Well, no one's used it since then," Tegan said thoughtfully. "We can just hope it's been left on the same one."_

_Martha advanced toward the door, the sonic screwdriver held out gingerly in front of her._

_"You can't go out there on your own," Tegan said._

_"She won't be on her own," I said. "I'm going with her." I tried not to give time to protest. "You look after the Doctor."_

_Tegan looked as if she was going to argue, but then she said, "Yeah. I guess I'd like to stay with him."_

_I took one end of the drip stand. It rattled as the otters battered against the door, and I could hear scratching sounds. "On three," Martha said in a low voice. "One… two… three!"_

_Martha pressed the button as she reached two, and the tip of the screwdriver lit up with its reassuring blue glow. A high-pitched, teeth-irritating whine filled the room and the sound of scrabbling abruptly ceased._

_On three, I slid back the stand that held the doors shut. No otters rushed in. Martha and I stepped forward, Martha holding the screwdriver out in front of her, and we pushed out the door._

_"Take care of him," Martha said over her shoulder to Tegan. "I'm trusting you, yeah?"_

_"You can," Tegan replied as if Martha's words had been a challenge._

_"Which one's the zoo lab?" I asked._

_"Back to the square and then diagonally across to the right. The light'll be on and there's a sign by the door. The tranquillizers are in the white cabinet in the corner. There'll be a tranquillizer gun with them."_

_With tight smiles, Martha and I stepped into the corridor, the screwdriver lighting our way._

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

The receptionist and I barricaded the door the moment Martha and Grace had gone, and I dropped heavily into the chair by the Doctor's bed. I picked up a cloth from the table and wiped his sweaty forehead. In his sleep, he gave a guttural moan and his lips formed into a toothy sneer.

"They've got guts," the receptionist said. "I'll give them that. I can see why you're… such good friends."

"Actually," I said slowly, "Grace and the Doctor aren't really good friends. Neither am I. We're new. I think we annoy him more than anything. You see, he didn't exactly invite us along… We just hopped in."

I shook my head and squeezed the Doctor's hand. "And I keep wondering why he would do this if that's true. It's for Grace, right?"

The receptionist was staring at me blankly.

"But it's what he does," I said lamely. "Even if it kills him… but it won't." There were a whole lot of episodes ahead.

"Hello," interrupted the receptionist thoughtfully, staring up at the screen above the bed. "Look at that."

I looked. "What's happening?"

"His temperature's dropping. And his…" The receptionist frowned. "Well, whatever he has in his blood that are doing the job of the white blood cells. The count's falling like crazy."

"Is that bad or go—" I cut myself off with a little yelp as the Doctor's hand suddenly gripped mine painfully, crushing my fingers. His eyes flicked open, dark like pools of tar. A cruel smile crossed his face again.

"So much need," he hissed. "So much…" He paused and stared directly into my eyes, glaring. I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe. "So bright."

And then his eyes snapped shut and he sagged back onto the bed.

"What was that?" the receptionist asked as she checked the Doctor's readings again.

I shook my head to clear it and breathed deeply in an effort to slow my heart rate. "I don't - I don't know. So much of what's happened the last day or so is beyond me. Like, for example, what's he playing at?"

"Who's in there?" shouted someone, banging and hammering on the door.

The receptionist rushed to the door, her face pale. "Who's that?"

"Henig," came a gruff voice. "Henig Olssen."

"Where are the otters?" I asked.

"They've gone," Henig said.

The receptionist slid the pole out of the door handles. In rushed Henig with a couple of the other settlers, armed with spades. _Like that's gonna do much good, _I thought_._

"Everyone's gathering in the square—c'mon."

"I'm not leaving him," I said, glancing at the Doctor.

"Go on," one man urged gently. "I'll keep an eye on him. He'll be fine now."

I reluctantly gave in with a sigh. "Okay. But only because Grace is out there!"

He looked blankly at me.

I sighed and followed Henig and the receptionist out into the crisp night air. The orange-lit square was filling with people—crying and shaking people.

"What's happened?" I asked, looking at Henig in fear.

The receptionist ran off and was swallowed by the crowd. Henig's eyes were large, haunted. "It's like the flood all over again."

No one seemed to know what had happened, although one thing was very quickly clear. Twenty-two people had completely and utterly vanished.

And Ty Benson, Grace Anscombe, and Martha Jones were among them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"More than anything, I feel I've let the Doctor down," I said to no one in particular.

Back in the bio lab, sitting beside his bed, mopping his forehead and listening to him muttering in his sleep, a tiny, tiny part of me hoped he wouldn't wake up until I'd worked out what I was going to tell him.

"Well it's like this…"

"I couldn't stop them…"

"They just ran off…"

It would only be harder because a bit of me wished I was with Grace and Martha right now. No matter how I worded it, I'd let him down. I'd let his best friend and new charge run off into the night with nothing more than a high-tech screwdriver.

Reports came back to me about the events of the night before. Doors and walls all around the square were covered with long scratches, and the grass between the buildings bore numerous scuff and drag marks, scattered with clods of turf torn up by frantic, panicking hands. The whole of the Council had disappeared, along with eight others—including Martha, Grace, and Ty. And there were smears of blood on the floor and walls of the hallway to the Council chamber.

Then, as if to hammer the final nail into the coffin of my fears about Martha and Grace, someone had found the Doctor's sonic screwdriver at the edge of the square, squashed down into the mud. And no one had seen Col or Candy since earlier the previous day, although Janis said that Candy had come looking for Col round about lunchtime. I had expected that, but surely she should be back by now? And hadn't Ty gone looking for her? The only assumption I could make was that they'd been taken by the otters as well.

"The flood cut our numbers in half," Ty had said. A_nd now the otters are whittling down the survivors, _I thought_._ _At this rate, when the second wave of colonists arrives—if they ever bother—there will be no one here to greet them. Just a rotting, crumbling settlement and a lot of skeletons_. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't even muster the energy for that. All I could do was sit by the Doctor's bedside and hold his hands.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"Tegan?" Candy said.

I jerked awake suddenly. I had managed to fall asleep, which made sense, as tired as I was. Candy was filthy with mud and crusty green slime. She looked exhausted too, and, as I stood up, she almost collapsed in my arms. I maneuvered her into my chair by the Doctor's bed. Candy all but fell into it.

"Where have you been? Where's Ty?" I asked, voice equal parts anger and worry.

Candy was shaking, her eyes wide. I pulled a blanket from the foot of the Doctor's bed and wrapped it around her, shouting into the corridor that I wanted tea for her. I crouched down beside the girl and took her hand, holding it tight.

"Is Ty with you? She went to look for you, but the otters—" I started.

"No, she's not," Candy said simply. "But I saw the otters."

"You saw them?" I asked.

Candy nodded, fixing me with her eyes. And then, shakily, she began to tell me about her search for Col.

"At first, I assumed he'd just wandered off somewhere, but that's not like Col. In the refectory, Janis told me that she'd seen Col muttering about the One Small Step. So I grabbed a waterproof jacket and set off into the forest."

Candy told me that it had been easy to track Col. She had eventually followed his prints to the ship, slumped over on its side in a half-drained river. "It was a sorry sight," she said, but didn't elaborate.

Candy had reached the ship and climbed the passenger ladder, since that was where Col's footprints ended. "The ship smelled. I even found a dead, half-rotted fish. I could see where Col's boots had been, and it looked like he'd headed towards the flight deck. The ship's main control room. The main window had shattered; this plant creeper had grown in through it. And then I found him—lying there by the computer consoles, where he'd got the power going. And he stared up at me with coal-black eyes…" She broke off, shuddering. I tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off—not meanly, just, "Give me a moment…"

She recounted their entire conversation. He hadn't seemed to recognize her at first. She asked him what happened, then said, "In my head. It's in my head." He told her to stay back, that it wasn't safe.

"He said it was looking for things in his head. Trying to learn. 'We have things that it does… It wants to use us,' he said."

He went onto say that it wanted our intelligence, needed it. Candy had asked what it wanted to know, but he had corrected her. "Apparently, 'it' doesn't want to know things; it just wants to know," Candy said softly. "I asked if he was hurt, and he said there was no pain. And then… I helped him sit up, and I saw something behind him. It was like—like a black rope, a couple of inches across, dangling from the back of Col's neck down the floor." Horror and revulsion showed on Candy's face. I put my arm around her. She swallowed, but she didn't shrug me off.

"Attached to the back of his head, just about the nape of the neck, was the rope. Only, it wasn't a rope—it was glossy, wet. And then I realized that it led to the shattered window. It was the creeper that I'd seen when I arrived. But the worst was how it was pulsing, pumping into Col's head. He told me go and tell the Doctor…" Candy trailed off, looking at the obviously incapacitated Doctor. "…it wants to use us. It wants us to be—and he stopped, told me he couldn't stop it. He said it was too late, said to tell you that he was sorry for letting it find out about—about Pallister. Pallister's who it needs, I don't know what. He kept telling me, demanding, that I tell you he was sorry. And it was too late to stop him by the time I realized he had wrenched the alien thing from the back of his head."

She choked to a stop. I hugged her unrestrainedly as she let a few tears drip down. Not sobbing like before. Finally she disentangled herself.

"After Col… after he died, I tried to drag his body out of the ship. I don't know why. He was dead. There was nothing I could have done. The thing, the tentacle or whatever it was in his head, pulled out of the ship. I could hear it slithering and banging down the outside. When I realized it was pointless, I gave up, but I noticed the shipbrain was on. Col had been deleting records from the ship's memory." She sounded angry. "Deleting Pallister's history file—the record that came with him aboard the ship. They weren't anything like the ones at the elections. Which Col was in charge of organizing. Pallister had convictions for petty crime, fraud, embezzlement."

"I take it that didn't come up in the elections," I said.

"The opposite," said Candy. "Col must have rigged the election. And when he heard about the ship's recovery, he would have panicked about being discovered… But I don't think that's what he was apologizing for." Candy shook her head sharply. "What would it matter whether the creature discovered that Pallister was a petty criminal or the elections? And why would Col rig the elections when there was nothing in it for him?"

I put my arm around her again. "I don't know. Maybe he just needed someone to follow. Did you leave the ship?"

"Yeah, I started to, but there were otters outside. They looked sort of weird, doped. But I didn't want to risk it, so I got out of the ship through one of the rear emergency exits. I hung around though, just to see what they were up to."

"You should have come straight back," I said.

Candy nodded guiltily. "I know. But after what had happened to Col, after what I saw… I thought I might be able to find something out." She gave a half-hearted shrug. "But I didn't. I watched them moving around the ship for a bit, but it was too dark to be able to see much, so I thought I should come back. But as I was heading back through the forest, I heard the otters behind me, so I hid in a tree and watched them all—dozens of them! After they passed I followed them heading for the city. I couldn't catch them up. By the time I got here…" She broke off again, and I felt her squeeze my fingers tightly. "It was too late. They were herding the Councilors back through the forest, nipping at their legs and feet. Ty was there, too, swearing at them like a trooper," she suddenly grinned, but oh-so-quickly. "But they just kept going, forcing them back into the forest. I head up a tree. Again."

The poor girl looked as miserable as I felt about Grace. I almost didn't want to ask my next question, but I knew I had to. "You recognized Ty… but did you see Grace or Martha? We found the Doctor's sonic screwdriver; they took it with them. No one's seen them since."

Candy shook her head. "It was dark, so I might have missed them. But I don't think so."

"If Martha and Grace weren't with the otters, then where are they?" I asked.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_Martha and I had stood in the darkness, sonic screwdriver in hand, and watched as a confused and shifting mass of darkness moved across the other side of the square. A crowd of people moving jerkily, herded by otters._

_I saw Martha grit her teeth and tighten her grip on the screwdriver. "This'll see 'em off," she said._

_I just braced myself._

_We never got as far as seeing 'em off. Barely had we taken two steps in the direction of the rapidly departing crowd and Martha's feet managed to catch on something. With a loud ooof! she went sprawling, full length—reaching out to grab me for support and bringing us both down, dropping the Doctor's beloved sonic. I felt warm fur slipping and sliding under my hand._

_"Help me!" Martha cried in panic, reaching for the ground beneath us. But I knew, and not because I'm a pessimist, that it was no use. All she would feel would be more otters._

_We let them carry us. I wasn't sure how many there were, but in seconds I was back on my feet, helping Martha stand. To her amazement and my relief, the little semicircle of otters backed away from us as she defensively raised her hands._

_One of the otters squeaked at us._

_"What?" exclaimed Martha._

_"Not," squeaked the otter again, "hurt."_

_"You can talk?"_

_Again, it was a million times better/weirder/scarier/more startling in person._

_"Not hurt," the otter repeated as it stared up in the near-darkness, its voice high-pitched and squeaky. "Help us. Help you."_

_That clinched it for Martha. "We've got to get back to the Doc—"_

_"Come," said a different otter._

_"We need to—"_

_"Come now!"_

_It was amazing how much urgency the little bear-faced creature could get into its voice. Three or four of the otters moved toward us each, their mouths open. I could see their gleaming incisors. "Martha, I think they have a point."_

_"Okay, okay," she said, taking a step backwards. We let ourselves be led out into the darkness of the forest._

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Candy stayed with the Doctor a little longer while I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was awake, in the bio lab with Orlo. Candy had been rebriefing the Doctor on her trip to the One Small Step.

When she was finished, he turned to Orlo and said, "I owe you an apology."

Orlo stood at the end of the table, arms folded, seemingly unsure how to respond. I shifted my weight onto one leg.

"What for?" he said.

"You told me what happened to your people last night. I should have been here to stop it instead of turning myself into a My First Little Chemistry Set."

"Darn right," I said.

Orlo seemed to flounder around emotionally. "Well..." He said before settling on a rueful half-smile.

"How are you feeling?" I interrupted.

"Me? Oh, I'm fine—just fine." He tipped his head, pulled down one of his eyelids, and leaned forward for me to look. "That looks fine, doesn't it?" He didn't wait for my answer. "Good! Only the word is that I turned into something of a green-eyed monster last night."

"More black than green, really, but the monster bit's about right," I said quietly.

"Sorry I had to put you through all of that, but it was the only way to find out what the alien proteins were for. Not something I fancy going through again in a hurry, I have to say. But as an intelligence-gathering exercise, it wasn't totally unsuccessful." He took off his glasses and popped them in his jacket. It was good to see that grin again.

"Those slime-things, the beasties in the nests—I know what they want." He paused for dramatic effect. "Us!" he whispered.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_"The further I get from the settlement, the more nervous I feel," Martha told me, quietly so as not to bother the otters at our heels. "I've lost all sense of where we are."_

_The otters had fallen silent, whispering to each other in tiny squeaks only. I was thanking God that Martha still hadn't latched on to the fact that I hadn't been half as surprised as I should have been, not just about the otters talking, but about everything that had happened on Sunday. After all, if I gave myself away now, that was the end of Tegan and me in the TARDIS. There were whole series ahead!_

_"How come no one mentioned before that they can talk?" I asked._

_"I was thinking the same thing. They didn't talk the first time."_

_Up ahead, a black domed shape showed against the darkness of the forest. "It's an otters' nest," Martha said. "You never got to see the outside, but I did, even if the Doctor had wrecked it."_

_My pulse quickened at the irrational fear that I might get possessed again. I wondered if Martha was trying not to panic about the last time we'd been in a nest, too. The furry entourage guided us down a channel-like path into their home, where we had to drop to all fours and crawl in the soft mud, wetness soaking through our clothes. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that this nest was a little different from the other one: the pit at the center, instead of being filled with water, contained only soil._

_"That means we're safe, yeah?" Martha muttered, obviously on the same track of though. She hunched herself up at the far wall. "So what now? Tea would be nice."_

_I hooked my arms around my knees and giggled. "You sound like him, you know. In a silly way, it's making me feel stronger."_

_Martha nearly giggled back. "If the Doctor can get through the worst of times with a joke and a grin, why can't I? Maybe it's one of those unwritten rules of space and time travel: face it all with a quip."_

_"Or risk going barking mad," I added. Disclaimer: I did not come up with that myself._

_The otters that had brought us here lined up around the curve of the next, linking paws in an incredibly cute way, as if they were about to take a bow at the climax of an opera._

_"I s'pose that 'take me to your leader' won't help, will it?" Martha suggested._

_"Just hope their leader isn't a slime creature," I muttered._

_"Leader bad," said one of them. "Hurt."_

_"Your leader's hurt?"_

_"Bad leader. Leader hurt. Hurt bad."_

_Martha shook her head. "Just rearranging the words isn't going to help," she said. "Is your leader hurt?"_

_"No leader," repeated the otter. "Leader hurt us."_

_"Let me see if we're getting this right," I said, watching Martha's face for signs she was on my track, which of course she was. "You don't have a leader, yeah?"_

_"No leader," agreed the otter seriously—or as seriously as a squeaking otter could be._

_"But a leader has hurt you? Something you think of as a leader?" Martha said._

_"Leader hurt us. Bad. Don't want leader. Leader wants us. Leader wants you."_

_"And by leader, you mean that slime thing," I said, forgetting to use the plural. Whoops._

_"They hurt you, didn't they?" Martha ventured._

_I reeeeallly tried not to think about what the otters' "leader" had done to me, how angry, hungry, and violent it had made me feel. As you can see from the detail of this, I was unsuccessful._

_I shivered, and Martha put her arm around my shoulders. "Grace, you know how whatever happened wore off with you the way it's worn off with these otters? Well, why d'you think these otters…" She broke off and gestured to the them, addressing them. "Before," she said slowly, "where were you?"_

_"Before?"_

_"Before you found us. Before you brought us here. After the leader hurt you."_

_"Bad," I added seriously._

_"Where were you?"_

_"Square nests," one of the otters said._

_"Square nests?" Martha said, obviously not getting it. I wondered if suggesting the buildings of the old settlement would be too obvious—besides the fact that I couldn't really remember if that was right. It was just the first thing that came to my head._

_"So, why have you brought us here?" Martha continued when it became clear that the otters weren't going to explain "square nests."_

_"Why?" echoed an otter. Martha sighed._

_"Clever they might be," I said, "but they aren't what you'd call intelligent."_

_"Exactly. Or should it be the other way round?" Martha gestured. "Us. Here." She paused. "Why?"_

_"Help us," said the otter. "Help you."_

_A bout of squeaking and squeeing ensued. Three of the otters rushed off through a hole in the side of the nest. They returned a few moments later, rolling something the size of soccer ball in front of them. As they pushed it up against my and Martha's feet, she said, "It's made like the roofs of the nests." I picked it up and held it to my eye, but it was too dark to see inside. Suddenly, the whole thing moved in my hands and I dropped it._

_More cautiously, Martha pulled it toward her and held it for me to see. But I knew that if I peered through the mesh of reeds, inside, only just visible, I would see something glistening wetly, shifting about._

_"You first," I said heroically._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"Why would these slime creatures want us?" I asked the Doctor.

"And what did Col mean about them wanting our intelligence?" Candy added.

The Doctor tapped his finger against his lip, his eyes narrow. "It makes a certain kind of sense," he said eventually. "What Col said about intelligence, and what I experienced last night." He pulled out his spectacles, fiddled with them for a few moments, and then put them back. "What d'you know about SETI?" he asked.

"Another word for a sofa?" I suggested.

The Doctor put his specs on and peered acidly at me over the top of them.

"Something to do with whales?" Candy ventured. "Cetaceans?"

He peered again and shook his head. "What are they teaching people in schools these days?" he whipped his glasses off again. "Come on—we've got work to do," he said suddenly. He spun around and his fingers dabbed at the video table: the overhead lights came on as the screens went dark. The Doctor raced around to the door.

"Where are you going?" I said, starting after him.

"Where are we going, you mean," replied the Doctor, halfway out the room.

I shook my head. "Duh," I muttered. Candy somewhat hesitantly took up the rear.

"Right," I called, trying to catch up. "Where are we going?"

"We," he called back over his shoulder, "are going to the same place that they've taken the others."

"Their nests?"

The doors ahead slammed open as the Doctor strode out into the orange daylight. "Nope," he shouted. "The river."

I finally managed to catch up with him, and Candy jogged to fall into step on the other side. "How do you know they've gone there?" Candy asked.

He tapped the side of his head. "That's one of the things the proteins told me."

"One of them?" I asked. "So they _are_ transferring information?"

He pulled a disparaging face. "As information transferring goes, it's all a bit shoddy—a bit make-do-and-mend. Our slimy little friends are rather amateur, actually—but I suppose it did its job."

"Which was…?" I was starting to get annoyed with his vagueness.

The Doctor rounded the corner and headed into the main square. We ran to keep up.

"They wanted us all fired up, angry, acting on instinct," he explained. "It helps to override our intelligence, our free will. My guess is that they're still experimenting, still trying to work out the right proteins, the right RNA strings to pull our strings. Oooh!" He glanced at me. "Remind me to use that one again. Where was I? Oh yes," he plunged on. "I think they were just testing us—us non-otters, that is. They've had months to practice on them and by now have probably got the hang of pulling their strings perfectly. The stuff they injected into Garace—and that I injected into myself—was fairly simple: a few trigger chemicals, a sprinkling of dumb, a bit angry and just a soupcon of greedy. Oh, and some pictures."

"Pictures? Of what?" Candy asked.

The Doctor had reached the very center of the square and he stopped dead, spinning around on his heels. "Swamps, water, otters—just the usual holiday snaps. And a very nice postcard of your old city."

"The settlement? Why?"

"I think they're curious," he whispered. "About us and about what's in the settlement. Remember what Col said about them wanting our intelligence? Well, intelligence is only useful if directed toward a goal. If it's used for problem-solving. So we need to think what problems the slimies might have. If we can keep one step ahead of them, if we can outthink them, then maybe we've a change of stopping them. What is in the grey building, by the way? The one nearest the bank, where they were poking around as I left."

Candy frowned. "You mean… the technical services unit?" she said.

"Doesn't sound very exciting, does it?" he murmured. "The 'technical services unit.' What's a 'technical services unit' when it's at home, then?"

"It's where all the plans for Sunday City were kept, where all the power and communications were controlled. Sort of a nerve center."

"Ahh…" said the Doctor mysteriously. "Now that's more like it: a nerve center. In fact, I think it deserved capitals. A Nerve Center! And an exclamation mark."

"Why would the otters want the Nerve Center?" I asked.

"No idea."

"And what," said Candy nervously, "are we going to fight them with?"

"One of the greatest all-purpose tools in the universe," the Doctor grinned. "Not me this time." He paused, clearly hoping someone would come up with the answer. There was silence. I looked at Candy, wondering why she wasn't speaking, but then I realized: she didn't know. "He means us! Our minds! Our thick, yet imaginative, purely human minds!"

Candy stared blankly at me. The Doctor and I looked at each other. "Terrific."

"Honestly," he sighed, "my wit's wasted on you people, it really is."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_The woven ball moved slightly in Martha's hands as the thing inside it shifted again. The dim moonlight filtering in through the roof of the otters' nest caught it. It was about the size of a fist but blobby and shapeless._

_"It's a baby," she said in a whisper. "A baby slime creature!"_

_The otters squeed and chattered, and little groups of them joined hands as if for mutual support. I could have used a bit myself, but Martha's hands were occupied._

_"Broken," said one—the one with a grey smudge on its ear. "Broken leader."_

_Martha blinked. "Is it ill? It that how you managed to catch it? Look," she said, voice growing firm, "thanks for the show'n'tell. But I'm not sure what you want us to do with it."_

_"Make broken," said the otter. "Make broken." Others joined in; within seconds they were chanting in unison._

_I found it eerie, but Martha just sighed and set the ball down by her knee. She looked irritated. "You want us to make it more broken?" she asked, gesturing to the shaking ball._

_"Leader," said the one with the smudged ear. "Make broken."_

_Martha's face lit up with understanding. "They want us to do what they can't, Grace. They want us to make the 'leader'—the parent of the thing in the basket—broken."_

_"They want us to kill it," I whispered. And somewhere by the river, it would be controlling so many people, telling them where to go and what to do, and they would obey. Even with everything I knew, what chance did we stand?_

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Candy began to hang back as we reached the rise beyond which lay the start of the old settlement. I fell back with her. I could smell the wet and damp from the flooded river plain ahead. "Something wrong?" I asked.

"I should have told them," she whispered. "I should have said something."

"You mean to the settlers?"

"You okay?" It was Doctor this time. He was looking at Candy strangely, as if he'd heard our quiet conversation.

Candy smiled—obviously forced—and nodded. "Just tired. Tegan is taking good care of me."

"Maybe you two should go back," he suggested. "Neither of you have had much sleep."

I shook my head. "No way!"

"We're fine, honestly," said Candy. "What's the plan?"

The Doctor grinned down at her. "Step one: we find out where they are. Step two: I use the sonic screwdriver to stun the otters. And step three: we move in and get your people out as quickly as possible."

"What about the slime creatures?" I asked.

"I suspect that they're not going to be much of a problem. So far, they've kept to the water—or pretty close to it. I suspect they're mainly aquatic, and they've used the otters as their hands and eyes and ears—at least until now. So I don't think we'll have to worry too much about them. Not yet, at any rate. But any sign of them and we leg it—got that?"

We nodded and dropped to all fours as we reached the crest of the rise. The Doctor glanced back and grinned. "Let's take a look, shall we?"

On his hands and knees, the Doctor crept to the brow of the hill. I glanced worriedly at Candy and she gave me a tight smile.

"They're there," the Doctor hissed.

I scuttled alongside him. Down on the mud flats I could see about half a dozen of the settlers. They were drifting in and out of the technical services unit, carrying bits and pieces, plans, wires. They looked like zombies, robots. And amongst them, stationary, like little brown statues, were the otters.

"Why aren't the otters moving?" whispered Candy.

"Probably been given orders to watch your people. They're the ones that the slimies are concentrating on."

"So this control… How does it work? The slimies put instructions in their heads and then…"

"Then the humans carry them out. They have to be relatively simple: the slimy's encoding isn't sophisticated enough to give them very complex tasks. Stuff like 'Go there—get this—take it there,' I should imagine. And there will be a homing instruction too. The proteins don't last long, so the slimies need to make sure that the humans go back to them for more instructions before the chemicals break down. If you hadn't tied me down last night, I'd probably have made a break for the water, trying to get back to them. Garace had a similar reaction."

"Where are the rest of the settlers?" I asked.

"They must be busy elsewhere. That's a bit of a bummer, isn't it? Still, can't be helped. If we rescue these, it's a start." He reached down and fished in his pocket for the sonic screwdriver. "Everybody ready?"

Slowly he stood, raised his sonic screwdriver, held it out, and pressed the button. The tip glowed its fiercest blue-white, and it began to hum. And then, with a noise like a rapidly deflating balloon, the light went out.

"What just happened?" I squeaked, trying to remember any episodes in which that had happened.

The Doctor shook it and tried again. This time it did nothing at all. He turned sharply to me. "What have you been doing with this?" He peered at it closely, shook it, even held it to his ear. "It's full of mud!" he wailed. "It's dead."

"It won't be the only thing," said Candy. "Look…"

We looked over the rise: down below, the otters had seen us and were flowing out from amongst the settlers. Toward us.

And suddenly, before the Doctor could even tell us to run, they froze in a broad wave about thirty-five yards away. Then they parted, moving aside to leave a clear path through their center.

"Oh… now that's interesting. Come into my parlor," the Doctor whispered. "Am I the only one to get the feeling we've been set up here?"

I glanced to the left and right and saw that the otters, without our notice, had executed a perfect pincer movement, slipping behind us and trapping us.

"I think they're inviting us in for a cuppa. It'd be rude to refuse."

"You're mad," said Candy.

"No," said the Doctor primly. "Just very well brought up. Come on—if we don't hurry, the tea'll be stewed. There's nothing worse than stewed tea."

"Apart from death at the paws of a thousand otters," Candy pointed out as the Doctor began to descend the slope.

"With rather large claws," I added, following and remembering the first otter we'd met.

"Yes," he said airily over his shoulder. "There is that."

Down on the mud flats, the half-dozen humans went about their business silently, like robots. The otters parted further, funneling us four to the edge of the water, which slopped onto the bank before dropping back, dark oiliness reflecting the growing clouds above us.

Candy shuddered. "If they think I'm going swimming, they're out of their tiny minds."

"Oh, I don't think they have tiny minds at all," the Doctor said. "Not the slimies at any rate. In fact, I think they have rather large ones. Not their own, granted, but still pretty big. Think of them as time shares." He looked down at her and smiled.

"SETI!" I cried, just as Candy's eyes lit up. "Not settee—SETI! That computer thingy." That was about as specific as I could get.

"But that was abandoned years ago," Candy said. "My grandpa was really into it. Grandma kept complaining."

"Knew you'd get there eventually," said the Doctor. "SETI—the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence. So, tell me what you know about it while we wait for the sandwiches and cakes to arrive."

"Is this just so you can look all smug and clever?" Candy asked.

"Yup, every time," I answered her, then turned to the Doctor. "SETI was American. Like me and Grace."

The Doctor just smiled as I continued, "It was some sort of government scheme to look for alien signals, radio messages. And 'cause it needed loads of computing to analyze the signals, they came up with a kind of time-share plan. Ordinary people all around the world sort of logged on to this network and let their computer do the work, or at least some of it, for them."

"Gold star, Tegan," beamed the Doctor.

"So you're saying," said Candy, "the slimies are like that—but with brains?"

"It fits the evidence. In their natural state, I bet they're pretty stupid—tiny little brains. But when they land on a planet, they find some smart creatures and hijack their brains for awhile—get them to do some of the thinking for them. They hive off some processing into—well, say otters, people, or whatever they can, and later the otters or people go back to the slimies, upload the results of all that thinking, and the slimies repeat it again with other otters."

"Or people," I finished, thinking of Grace strapped down. "It's horrible."

"Very effective, though."

I saw I wasn't the only one appalled by the Doctor's attitude. It didn't seem much like him.

"The slimies use the resources of the planets they infect—no need to carry around whopping great brains of their own. They begin with a head start, as it were." (I groaned) "Who better than the natives to know how the local environment works, where stuff it, the weather, the best coffee shop? Instinct becomes intelligence—just like that! Straight to Mayfair, collect two hundred pounds. Brilliant!"

Okay, it was just like him.

His face changed as the water began to swirl and turn. I took a step back, only to discover that the otters had enclosed us against the shore.

"You know what you said earlier," Candy whispered, "about the slimies being aquatic? How we'd be safe it we stayed away from the water…"

Suddenly, a huge, foamy splash broke the surface. A figure rose up, drenching us all. I steeled myself for one of the tendrils that had attacked Grace. But the thing that came toward us was the last thing any of us had expected to see.

It was Pallister.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Pallister stared at us with dead black eyes, sparkling wetly like the carapaces of monstrous insects. His upright body swung limply, like a corpse, as it floated toward us across the water. Its feet dragged the surface, and we could see the huge tendril that supported him from behind. It split into three smaller ones, moist green, piercing his skull at the back and the sides, like fingers stuck into a bowling ball. They pulsed and throbbed, as if pumping fluids in and out of the man's brain.

"That's how Col died," Candy whispered. I shuddered.

"You," said Pallister, his voice bubbly and dribbling from his mouth like oil, "will be me."

"Is that right?" said the Doctor archly, folding his arms. "Well excuse me if I decline your very kind offer. I rather enjoy being me, actually."

Pallister—or the thing that controlled him—seemed to consider the Doctor's words for a moment. Water dripped from the man's clothes into the river, sending little ripples out across its surface.

"It's processing," the Doctor whispered to us out of the corner of his mouth. "The thing that's operating poor old Pallister is using his brain to translate. Much quicker that time-sharing the otters' brains, I imagine."

"Why?" came the reply, after what seemed like forever.

"Why?" repeated the Doctor indignantly. "Why? Why d'you think? I was born me, I've lived my life—well, most of it—as me, and I'd rather like to carry on being me. That's the way I am."

"I like being me, too," I managed to add shakily. "And having recently seen the Doctor as somebody else, I think we'd all prefer that he remains himself, thank you very much."

Pallister's body twitched as one of the creature's tendrils jerked. "To work as one," it said slowly, "is better. Unity is better than diversity."

"Says who?"

"Pallister thinks that. It is in accord with me."

"Yeah, 'it' would be," I muttered.

The Doctor blew a raspberry. "I wouldn't take much notice of poor old Pallister. Bit up himself if you ask me. And if you had better access to his brain, you'd see that there's a big difference between 'unity' and 'obsessive single-mindedness.'" He paused and leaned forward slightly. "But you can't, can you? I mean, you weren't exactly in the front of the queue for brains."

Pallister blinked slowly with a cold superiority and said nothing.

"See!" the Doctor cried smugly. "You haven't a clue what I'm talking about!"

"Actually, you have that affect on a lot of people," I said.

"All slimy's intelligence is just time-shares." He grinned at us. "What did I tell you? The thing's just renting rooms in other people's heads."

"Well," Candy muttered dryly, "the landlord isn't going to be too pleased about what his tenant's done to the property." Pallister's skin was puffed and bloated, holes drilled in his head.

"Interesting tactic," the Doctor mused, peering at Pallister again. "Just squat in the brains of the creatures on whatever planet you find yourself. Shame that I'm here to evict you. You've got exactly ten minutes to vacate the property before I send the bailiffs in."

Pallister said nothing. "Nice speech," I said wearily. I added loudly, "What he means is, Get the heck out of there!"

The Doctor looked at me, hurt. "That's what I said!"

"But it's like you said," I whispered, "it's not the brightest of things."

"No, but it's bright enough to trick us into coming here. What's that all about then?" the Doctor addressed Pallister. 'I mean, you obviously need these people to do some dirty work for you. But you'd programmed the otters to bring us to you before we even arrived; otherwise they'd have torn us to pieces by now. Why?"

"To assess you," Pallister said. "he and the others knew you would come to me. Pallister thinks that you are intelligent, that you might serve my purpose."

"What d'you hope to gain from using Pallister anyway?" Candy asked the crumbling husk hanging before us.

"Yes," agreed the Doctor. "What's the point of this ridiculous puppet show?"

"Normal communication with you is inefficient," Pallister intoned, cutting off the Doctor's intended rambling.

"Well it would be. We're not equipped for your particular brand of chemical chat."

"This mode will facilitate the extraction of information useful to reproduction."

"Gross!" Candy and I exclaimed together.

The Doctor pulled a face. "You do realize you've put images in our heads that even industrial-strength mind bleach isn't going to erase, don't you? How many of you are there, then? How many of you came down with that meteorite?"

"I am one."

"Just the one? Well, you have been putting yourself about. You must be huge then!" He stopped. "And what d'you mean, 'useful to reproduction'? What has Pallister got to do with it?"

"And do you really what to know the answer?" I muttered, noting the change in his voice from bright and cheery to thoughtful and concerned. That, I knew as a three-year Whovian, was bad.

"The information Pallister contains will facilitate my reproduction. Pallister thinks you can add to that information."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you love it when they blurt out all their plans? We're going to be here all day."

The Doctor said, "What information could Pallister possibly have that could help you spawn or bud or whatever it is you do?"

The swamp thing processed the Doctor's words through Pallister's brain with another agonizing pause. Though his coal-black eyes were still emotionless, I thought I saw just a twitch of his mouth. One arm shuddered, sending more drips into the river below. "It believes I should not tell you."

"It?" the Doctor shouted. "It? It is a human being; it is a man called Pallister. He might have been a bit rough around the edges, but at least he had the interests of the people here at heart. Sort of."

"Lame," Candy said.

"And I have my interests," replied Pallister. "Reproduction is the purpose of life."

"Oh, tosh!" snapped the Doctor. "It might be quite useful, but it's not the be-all and end-all, you now .What about exploring? What about music and dancing and climbing mountains? What about adventure and love and laughter? What about jigsaws, eh?" He jabbed a finger in Pallister's direction. "That's what the purpose of living is—living."

"Reproduction is my purpose."

The Doctor threw up his hands theatrically. "Well, there you go, then." He turned to us. "I told you this thing has no brain—and now we know it has no heart or soul, either. And what does your reproduction involve, then, eh?" he said to Pallister. "Spores, buds, dozens of slime babies popping out of your tentacles?" He paused and grimaced. "Ew, slime babies." He gave a melodramatic shudder. "I'll never eat a jelly baby again."

I gasped in real shock. "Doctor! You can't give up on jelly babies!"

"Pallister thinks you are asking in order to use this information against me."

"Oh, does he? I'm not sure you can trust the word of a man with a couple of pounds of slime squidged into his head. Plays havoc with the synapses, believe me."

"Doctor," Candy, and I said in not-quite-perfect unison. Extruding itself from the main tendril supporting Pallister's body was another, thinner one. Glassy and glistening, it headed for the Doctor.

"You will be me," intoned Pallister soullessly.

"Not today, thank you!" shouted the Doctor, grabbing a tranquillizer gun from inside his pocket.

"Will that penetrate it? Remember how tough the one that attacked Grace was!"

"Oh," he said casually, "it's not slimy I'm aiming for!"

The Doctor stretched out his arm. With a soft_ pht_ the dart embedded itself in the remains of Pallister's chest. Seconds later, the barely living body twitched, and the tendrils supporting it jerked back. The one lancing through the air began thrashing about aimlessly. "I think I may have given it a bit of a headache," the Doctor noted dryly.

Around us, the otters were motionless. The zombified settlers continued to drift in and out of the grey building as if nothing was happening. Suddenly, Pallister's body shuddered and plunged back into the water.

"Wait!" called the Doctor, his tone mock-offended. "Where are you going? You were going to give us tea and cake!"

Too late.

"Oh!" said the Doctor crossly. "How very rude!"

"Now what?" Candy asked. I knew we were all thinking about the otters.

"Well," said the Doctor, ruffling his hair (as if it needed ruffling). "My guess is that the otters are still following their last instructions. If we try to move, I suspect they'll have a pretty good go and tearing us limb from limb." He scratched his chin. "What we could really do with right now is a miracle."

"A miracle?" Candy watched the surrounding bare-teeth otters.

"Don't scoff at miracles," said the Doctor firmly. "Yes, a miracle a bit like that one." He was staring over our shoulders. We turned to see what he was looking at.

Over the crest of the hill, whooping and shouting fit to scare cattle, were Martha Jones and Grace Anscombe—accompanied by the dirtiest dozen of otters I'd ever seen—all screeching and squealing and leaping up and down as they came.

"YES!" I hollered, punching the air. "GO GRACE!"

"You have got to be kidding," Candy gasped.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_We had arrived just in time to see the end of a showdown between the "man" and the Doctor. Seconds later, it had all been over—except for the fact that the Doctor, Tegan, and Candy were now trapped by dozens of otters._

_"Do something!" Martha urged our furry friends. "Help them!"_

_"Can you talk to them?" I asked, my memory fuzzy. I jabbed my hands around frantically, a foreign tourist. "You—talk? To them?"_

_The smudgy-eared one stared me. "Talk no." My and Martha's shoulders fell. "Shout, yes!" he squeaked in addition._

_"Shout?" Martha asked._

_I grabbed her shoulders. "Martha, shout!"_

_"Yes, can shout. Might scare," the otter clarified._

_"Nice one!" Martha reached down to stroke his bearlike head, but he pulled back in alarm. "Might scare is good! Definitely might scare! Shout," she added._

_We beamed at each other. "Oh, yes." Martha added, "Remember what you said earlier about my being a general?"_

_And so, like wild women shrieking and wailing as we went, Martha and I led our band of equally wild otters over the hill and down the slope toward the Doctor, Candy, and Tegan._

_As the guard-otters saw—and, more importantly, heard—our little strike-force hurtling down the slope, they began to move, glancing at each other, quivering in their fur, giving every impression of being confused._

_In amongst all the squeaks and cried, I heard the odd word: "Run!" and "Hide!" and warnings about various predators coming. Within seconds, as our team reached the others, the slime-thing's conditioning finally broke. In a panicky flurry, the otters fled, scattering out across the slope in a storm of fur and squeals._

_"General Martha Jones of the Seventh Cavalry," panted Martha, saluting smartly, "to the rescue—sir!"_

_I saluted too. "Just a private, but I do my best—sir!"_

_"General Jones!" beamed the Doctor, returning our salutes. "I'm going to recommend you for a commendation. Come here!" He swept her up in a huge hug, lifting her feet clear off the ground. Over her shoulder, he grinned, "Private Garace Anscombe, it's good to see you in your right mind!"_

_"Relatively," I smiled, hoping for a hug too. That's when Tegan pounced, and while she wasn't whom I had expected, life was good. _

_The Doctor dropped Martha back on her feet with a jolt and looked around at the sleepwalking settlers. "Now let's see if we can't wake these sleeping beauties up. But first, someone needs to go back to the city and tell everyone what we've seen. Candy, Tegan?"_

_"I don't want to leave!" Tegan cried._

_"It'll be good for you. Trust me," he said._

_"What, 'cause you're a doctor?" Candy asked._

_"No: 'cause I'm the Doctor! Now get moving!"_

_"I'll go instead of Tegan," I volunteered, suddenly getting a Doctor-worthy sneaky idea. I gave an extravagant bow. "Martha, Tegan, Doctor."_

_"See you back there," the Doctor promised._

_As Candy and I walked off, she said, "I saw you before, when you were unconscious."_

_"That keeps happening," I said cheerfully._

_"Your name's—Garace? Right?"_

_I smirked. "According to the Doctor. Don't suppose they have Wicked here and now, do they?"_

_"My name's Candy."_

_Lightly sarcastic, I said, "No?" Not subtle, but I wasn't too worried about Candy being suspicious of me._

_"Tell you what, though," I added. "You're not really thinking of going back to the settlement, are you?"_

_Candy smiled a little guiltily. "You're good, Garace."_

_"That's a change. Well, there's only one problem." Her smile faded, but I continued, "Are you going to ditch me? 'Cause that doesn't work for me, pretty much at all."_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

The sun had vanished behind the clouds and the rain had began to fall again as our strange little band reached Sunday City. Without the otters there to guard them, the Doctor had woken the settlers, (one of which was Ty), surprisingly easily from their chemically induced trance. One by one, he whispered in their ears and clicked his fingers in front of them, then pointed them in the direction of Martha and me at the brow of the hill. Like acquiescent children, they trooped up to join us, apparently stunned to find themselves in ankle-deep mud on the edge of the old city.

The journey back was somber: Martha had wanted to talk to the settlers, find out what had happened and what they had been doing, but the Doctor had cautioned against hassling them too much. I agreed; they'd been through a lot. He thought they needed to get back to familiar surroundings before anyone interrogated them.

We passed the trip with the Doctor and I explaining exactly what we'd encountered down at the water's edge, and Martha rejoining with her trip the otters' nest with Grace. She had recovered the basket with what she said was a baby slimy, which she'd left at the brow of the hill. I wondered if Candy and Grace were also exchanging stories—something she and I would have to do the moment we got a chance.

Of otters, friendly or unfriendly, we saw no sign. "I hope we haven't put any of them in danger," Martha said.

"Brainwashed otters are unlikely to be a threat to the others," the Doctor reassured. "I think we have Ty to thank for them."

"Thought I recognized the one with the smudgy ear," I said.

"What?" I could tell that Martha was deciding whether to be irritated that Ty was getting the credit.

"Well, Ty and her little A-Team," the Doctor explained, turning the spherical basket over in his hands and cooing into it, which I found silly and distracting and quite lovable. "They were Ty's otters—the ones she had in the zoo lab. Recognizable and obvious."

I saw Martha's teeth grit in a "Really?"-type smile. _Uh oh_, I thought.

"Old slimy-boy seems to have most of the otters hereabouts under its slippery thumb: it's only the zoo lab ones, control decayed, that aren't. Obviously, they had enough intelligence to keep well away from the water once the chemicals wore off, and when the otters rampaged in Sunday City, our friends let themselves out and decided that we were the best chance to get rid of slimy."

The other settlers rushed out to greet us, but a sense of defeat that we hadn't managed to rescue all of the kidnapped humans hung in the air. No one seemed concerned about Pallister, and I realized that I had no idea about his family or friends. I said it out loud.

"I know what you mean," said Martha, hugging herself. "It makes me feel cold. Detached."

"You okay?" The Doctor squeezed her shoulder.

"Yeah," she said with feigned brightness.

"You did well, you know," he said, ushering the rescued settlers into the crowd, who were escorting them away.

"Thanks." Martha smiled tightly, watching them go.

"You could have told Grace as much," I added to the Doctor almost crossly. "She's not invisible."

"Yeah," Martha said absentmindedly. "I like Grace."

The Doctor considered this, then tossed the wicker ball into the air over his shoulder. Martha caught it perfectly. "In a minute, I think it's time to have a good look at all creatures, erm, small. Good catch!"

"It's what I'm good at," she said dryly.

"But first," he said, walking off, "we have a few people to chat with."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"Useless!" said Martha. "Absolutely useless!"

"Oh, come on. You're not—" The Doctor stopped when he saw the expressions on Martha's and my faces. We weren't in the mood for his usual brand of jokiness. He sighed and plopped himself on the bed next to us. "Sadly, I'm inclined to agree with you. There's just not enough to go on—not without poking deeply enough to trigger psychotic episodes like Garace suffered."

"I'm glad she isn't here," I said. "I mean, the chemicals are gone from her, but I don't know if she could face it." Then it occurred to me that she should have been here with Candy. Where in the world…?

The Doctor went on, "I'd try a bit of hypnosis if I didn't think it would be too intrusive."

"You can do that?" I asked hurriedly, in an effort to maintain our identities as ignorant Americans.

He tapped his temple. "Time Lord psychic connections. Yes, I can. But I don't dare."

Martha nodded. "Most of them didn't even know what the objects were that they'd been told to fetch. Like dogs trained to fetch a newspaper without knowing what a newspaper is."

"And their memories are fading quickly," the Doctor sighed. "Human brain chemistry's obviously more resilient than the otters'. And let's face it, if I wasn't able to get much out of what happened to me, what chance have these poor people?"

Suddenly, my hand flew over my mouth. Watching them like an episode was easy, but now I could participate! "Hang on! You said that hypnosis would be too intrusive, right? What if you used psychic paper to—"

The Doctor cut me off. "Tegan, you haven't a grasp of how the psychic paper works."

But Martha's eyes narrowed. "Shut up, Doctor. Again, Tegan?"

"Couldn't you use psychic paper to get imprints from the settlers?"

This time the Doctor gaped and jumped up, nearly knocking Martha and me over. "Tegan! Oh, Tegan Young!"

This was the most recognition I'd had from the Doctor yet, so I decided to milk it. "Does this mean I can have TARDIS drivers' training?"

"Ahh, maybe I'll show you how to change the spare wheel. C'mon!"

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"Just take a few deep breaths," the Doctor told Ty, whom we'd handpicked to try this out on. "Let yourself relax… that's it… Now look at this piece of paper. Try to think about what you were doing, what you were carrying, back there at the settlement."

I watched Ty closely, saw the puzzlement on her face that incredulity quickly succeeded. "How…" she began. "That's… That's…" She tipped her head slightly, as if the angle of whatever she was seeing was wrong. "That… it looks like some sort of circuit, doesn't it? An electronic circuit." She looked up at the Doctor. "Is that right?"

The Doctor whipped the psychic paper back into his pocket and grinned. "Oh yes, Ty. That's so right. You have a nice sleep; you'll feel much better when you wake up. Believe me."

"I trust you," Ty smiled gently, nodded, and lay back on the bed. Within seconds she was asleep, impressing even me, a diehard-seen-it-all Whovian.

"Wow! Does that help, though?" Martha asked.

"Oh yes—and I've only just started. Care to accompany me on my rounds?"

It look less than half an hour. Of the six settlers we'd brought back, only one was unable to remember anything. The others, to varying degrees, let the psychic paper draw out the buried memories of what the slime creature had commanded them to fetch and where to take it. To me (and, I suspect, Martha) none of the individual bits and pieces meant much, but the Doctor got more and more excited. When the last of the rescues slept soundly, he let out a quietly triumphant, "Yes!"

"And?" we chorused.

"Slimy-boy out there is building something."

"Like what?" Martha asked.

"Something a bit like me," he said, "only with added electronics."

"So," I surmised, "tall, skinny, crazy hair—"

"Oh, please," he said. "Big and chunky."

"They're building a fruit machine?" Martha grinned.

"Ooh, nice one," I said, giving her a high-five.

The Doctor's mouth turned down. "One of those dance-step machines at the very least. Still, I'll let it all stew in the Doctor-o-tronic for awhile." He tapped his head. "We'll have a look at baby slimy. Maybe that'll supply the missing bits. Oh, and Tegan? Just for your brilliance though, I'll not give up on jelly babies."

"Then my life is complete," I said, with only a touch of sarcasm.

The zoo lab was deserted: An intern we'd met upon arrival with the settlers, named Cal, (He looked to be about 19. Brilliant, too. Okay, I fancied him a little. Sue me!) had left a note pinned to the cage in which he'd placed the wicker sphere containing the baby slimy: Gone for coffee. Thought you'd like the honor of checking out Junior. Cal.

I had a feeling that Martha would take this opportunity to ask questions about Ty and her work. Lo and behold, the very next words spoken were, "So, this Ty. What's she like?"

The Doctor popped on his brainy specs, cutting through the otters' handiwork, and didn't' look up. "Ty? Oh, she's nice."

_This can't end wel_l, I thought.

Their rather one-sided discussion about Ty's age relative to his ended with the Doctor abruptly taking off of glasses and changing his tone. "Martha, you mentioned babies."

Martha actually took a step back, thrown.

"Babies?" I said.

He nodded.

"Did I?" she said, bewildered. "And is this quite the time to bring it up?"

"Well…" He sucked in his cheeks and looked down at the green-black thing slowly writhing where he'd put it in a dish, six inches long and four across, one end round, the other raggedly flat. "It wasn't Garace, I don't think. Well, baby, singular. This little beauty. You said it was a baby slimy."

Martha cocked her head. I said, "So?"

"Well, you were wrong—and right." He held it up with a pair of tweezers, where it twirled like the biggest slug I'd ever seen. "Look at the flat edge: this has been cut from the tip of one of the big slimy's tentacles. Probably poked itself into your chums' nest, and they managed to slice it off. There are fragments of stone in the cut end: language and tool-making, eh? Your furry friends are looking cleverer by the minute."

"And the 'right' bit?" asked Martha.

"Well…" He popped the specs back in his pocket and leaned back against the chair, hands clasped behind his head. "It's a baby too—given the right environment and food, this little chap could grow up just like his daddy. Or mummy. Which is a bit disturbing."

"Like Pallister…" I said.

"That's how slimy reproduces, then?" from Martha. "Chop off a bit of him, and it grows into a new one?"

"Looks like it. Give me another half hour for him and I'll know for sure." He paused and looked up at me expectantly. "And although it'd be dreadfully sexist of me to suggest it, and perhaps mean boss-ish as well, a cuppa wouldn't half go down well right now."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'll let you off, just this once. One lump or two?"

I ran—almost literally—into Cal as I fetched the Doctor his tea. We almost collided on the steps of the zoo lab. Cal looked flustered.

"Are you alright? I though you'd just gone for coffee," I asked him.

"I had, but then I started looking for Candy. You said she and your friend were headed here, yeah? Well, I can't find her. Them."

"They're not here?"

"No one's seen them."

"Uh oh," I said eloquently. "I don't think they came back at all."

"They must be somewhere," Cal said. "I can only think of one reason they wouldn't have come straight back here: they decided to see if they could find the other settlers. And maybe they got caught."

I wrapped my hands tightly around the cooling mug. "Not again! Why couldn't they just do what the Doctor said?" I stopped. "We-ell, come to think of it, no one ever does what the Doctor says."

"Hey, maybe one or two do! Once or twice," the Doctor said behind me, taking the mug from my hand. "C'mon, we're going to the Council chamber."

"I think I'll just stay here. With the otters. Make sure things don't get out of hand," Cal mumbled. The Doctor rolled his eyes and headed out the door.

Martha and I exchanged a look which said, _Right, don't fancy him anymore, _and followed the Doctor.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"What Pallister said," I asked. "What that thing said about reproduction. What did it mean?"

A couple dozen Sundayans had gathered with us at the Council chamber around a roaring fire. Martha had changed clothes again, and I was helping her pick at a plate of cheese, fruit, and fried eggs as we sat beside the Doctor.

"That's what I've been wondering too," he replied, perched on the corner of the Council table. He rubbed the back of his neck, pulling an assortment of thoughtful faces. "You have to admit it didn't sound good. One of those things is bad enough. What do we know about it, then? There's just the one, it's massive, and it's gobbling up everything around it to make itself even more massive. Makes sense that it lives in the water, really—the buoyancy will help support its body, and it'll have all the seafood it needs. And judging by the bit that Martha here brought back, it reproduces by binary fission, splitting off bits of itself. I had a good poke at it: distributed nervous system, no single brain, no particularly specialized organs. Chop it into a million billion pieces, and before you know it, you've got a million billion new ones. Would explain a lot about its relative lack of intelligence. With a nervous system and 'brain' spread throughout its enormous body, it's a fairly slow thinker. There's a limit to how fast nerve impulses can travel through its tissue. One reason why humans are so smart: small, very dense brains, fast communication between different parts of them. This thing," he grimaced, "was hiding at the bottom of the sea when Mother Nature handed out smarts. Unfortunately for us and the otters, it's turned a disadvantage into a whopping great advantage. Instead of trying to do its own thinking, it gets brighter species to do it for it. And in the process benefits from those other species' knowledge of the environment that it finds itself in."

"And it's taken our people," grunted Henig, sprawled in a wooden chair near the fire.

I saw the flicker of acknowledgement in the Doctor's eyes. He'd tried to get all the kidnapped settlers back, but had failed. And the Doctor didn't do failure well.

"It can grow as big as it needs and has no predators on Sunday. Judging by its rate of cell division, it's not planning on dying of old age, so it doesn't need children competing for resources." He shook his head and fixed Henig with a look. "So there's really only one reproductive strategy that makes sense. That picture Garace drew when we brought her back from the otters' nest: that single blob enveloping the planet. Well, if it's got this planet sewn up all by itself, what would be the purpose of reproducing, eh?" He looked around the room like a schoolteacher.

"To spread to other planets?" Martha ventured.

"First class honors!" he grinned. "Exactly. After all, I think we can be fairly sure it arrived on—or in—the meteorite that caused the flood."

"Okay." Martha settled back thoughtfully into her chair and put her fingers together like some sort of evil genius. "But it can't exactly conjure itself another meteorite out of nowhere to hitch a ride on; it can't repair the settlers' ship; and it doesn't have the brains to make itself a great big space catapult to shoot its little babies into outer space with."

"Oh, oh, oh!" I raised my hand. "That's what it's getting the settlers to build—you know, what we learned from them with the psychic paper!"

The Doctor shook his head. "Too small. Much too small. And too simple, judging from how many parts were involved."

"Maybe it naturally has the ability to fire bits of itself out there," Martha said.

Dr. Hashmi, who was next to Martha, nodded. "I've heard of things that can do that. Like plants and stuff. Maybe this does, too."

"It's possible. But remember what it said about Pallister—that the information he contained 'would facilitate its reproduction.' I don't imagine Pallister was a secret expert on building a giant space catapult—" The Doctor broke off. "What was Pallister's specialty?"

Henig made a gruff face. "He was a jumped-up little nobody, that's what. That thing sticking its fingers into his head was the most special thing that happened to him in his life."

The assembled settlers murmured in discontent. Whatever they had thought of Pallister while he was alive… "Speak no ill of the dead," I said under my breath.

"What?" said Henig, rounding on them. "Don't pretend. We all know he weaseled his way to the head of the Council, and not one of us had the guts to put him in his place." He scowled. "If you ask me, he and that thing were made for each other."

"Yes," said the Doctor, "that's what I was getting at: Why did it choose him?" He scratched the back of his head. "It might just be that it saw some sort of kindred spirit, I suppose, or that it recognized him as your leader. What did he do before he became head of your Council?"

"He was a technician," said Dr. Hashmi. "He worked in the power station and helped set up the ore refinery."

The Doctor's shoulders fell. "Don't tell me. Uranium ore. For that beautiful uranium-powered spaceship of yours."

Dr Hashmi nodded. My mouth went dry.

"And a man who knows how to refine and use uranium," said the Doctor heavily, "is now dangling from the end of that creature's tentacles. If we thought things were bad before, I have a terrible feeling they're only going to get worse. Much, much worse."

"Why?" barked Henig, frowning. "The ship needs more than power to get off the ground—"

"You're thinking like a human," the Doctor interrupted, his face grimmer every second. "If you lot wanted to leave Sunday, you'd need a ship. Slimy? You can do a lot more with refined uranium than power a spaceship."

The room froze.

"You're kidding," Martha said reflexively. "That thing is going to build a bomb?"

The Doctor's gaze on us didn't waver.

I spoke, hardly believing what I was saying. "It's going to use Pallister's knowledge to build an atomic bomb and—and blow itself into space? That's what the settlers were making?"

Dr Hashmi shook her head. "I may only be a physician, but even I know that setting off a nuclear bomb under you isn't going to fling you to your next home."

The Doctor shrugged. "It survived the journey to Sunday well enough—floating around the stars as a blob on that asteroid." He drummed his fingers against his bottom lip. "But to make a plan like that actually work, it'd need a shaft down into the planet—ooh, a few hundred meters deep, at least. And where's it going to find one of those around here…?"

I looked around the room, stiller than ever. The awkward hush was as if someone had pulled out a billboard of a hole in the ground with all the Sundayans standing around it, holding a sign that read, "GREAT GALUMPHING HOLE IN THE GROUND!"

"Oh great," said the Doctor, his shoulders sinking. "Just great!"

The only thing my brain managed to produce in the stressful moment was, _Good thing this isn't his next regeneration. Eleven wouldn't have caught on yet._


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

_"We ought to feel guilty for coming here on our own, ignoring the Doctor's instructions," Candy said, the voice of idealism._

_"But we don't," I rejoined, the voice of fact._

_"I've never been good at taking orders, even from someone as likeable as the Doctor."_

_"Especially from the Doctor."_

_"Besides, what could we have told the settlement that they don't already know, couldn't guess, or wouldn't find out better from the others in an hour or so?"_

_"Nothing."_

_"Exactly. That's why it makes sense to find the rest of our people. And then tell the Doctor."_

_"Maybe," I said cryptically, getting the feeling I was just a buffer to help Candy sort through her angst. "You know Morse Code, right?"_

_Candy looked startled. "Yeah, how did you know?" (Fortunately she didn't let me answer.) "Orlo and I communicate with torches… It's how I met the Doctor and Tegan."_

_I nodded. That part being right was very good. I wondered if I should explain the bomb, but explaining how I knew about the bomb was another matter, so I kept my mouth shut._

_For a few moments we puzzled in the bushes. We were trying to get a good view of the old settlement._

_"Do you hear that?" I asked, knowing very well she did and what it was. "That droning… Is it a machine?"_

_She perked up. "Yeah. I've heard it before, too. Do you think the others can hear it?"_

_"Too quiet yet."_

_Stealthily, Candy and I began to make our way upstream. "Why in the world," Candy asked, "has someone decided to start up the drill?"_

_,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,_

"You know," said the Doctor, his eyes sweeping the room as he seethed, "I'm half afraid that if I tell you that the worst thing, just at the moment, would be an army of killer robots with flashing red laser-beam eyes, someone would open a cupboard door and point out that you've already got one! …Anyway." He seemed to calm down a little. "This drill: tell me more about it."

An early-twenties man with straggly blonde hair raised a hand. "It's for extracting low-grade uranium ore. The drill tower's a hundred meters tall, but the extensible bit can go as deep as five hundred. There's a reasonable seam of ore down there. The drill makes a hole, and then we drop low-grade explosives down to fracture it."

"And then leach it out with a chemical solution?" asked the Doctor. "And pump it back up to the surface for processing?"

The man nodded, his mouth tight with worry.

"So much for your intentions to switch to fusion power," the Doctor shot at no one in particular. "Looks like you've already got yourself a long-term energy policy."

"But what's this got to do with that creature wanting to set off a nuclear bomb under our backsides?" Henig put in.

"Never heard of the Orion Project?" asked the Doctor. His eye caught mine and Martha's. We shrugged. "Today's been a real history lesson for you lot, hasn't it?" said the Doctor wearily. "It was an idea back on Earth in the 1940s for a nuclear pulse rocket, to build a build spaceship. Whopping, in fact. The size of a city. And to power it by setting off nuclear bombs under its bum."

_Don't remember that in the history books,_ I thought. "Did they actually build it?"

"Nah," said the Doctor. "Too many practical problems, but in theory it could have worked. The back end of the ship was nothing more than a huge steel plate designed to absorb the radiation and cushion the energy of the bombs, pushing the rocket forwards. A bit brutal for my tastes, but where would be if everyone though the same, eh?"

Henig shook his head. "You're mad!" He looked around for agreement. "You expect us to believe that this thing's going to turn the ship's power core into a bomb, drop it down the bore hole, and surfboard into space on a chunk of rock?"

"Oh, I've known people try to surfboard into space on far more unbelievable things," the Doctor said. "Surfboards, for instance. But thank you for so nicely summing that up, Henig."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver from his pocket for the umpteenth time and waved it around. A faint blue light came from the tip, and it emitted a feeble buzzing, like a dying fly's. Now that was an unkind thought about the sonic, which had saved lives. The Doctor pulled a grumpy face and smacked the sonic against his hand, examining the flecks of mud that came out.

"Listen," Martha said over the arguing of the Sundayans around us. "I've been thinking. Why don't we take a few people out into the swamp, find the TARDIS, and give them a lift home? Then the thing can set off its bomb and blow itself to kingdom come for all we'll care." She smiled brightly, optimistic.

I thought it was a good idea, but I remembered something. "They don't want to go, Martha. Can you imagine someone like Candy hightailing it out of here?"

"Even she'll not want to stay with slimy about to blow up half the planet. Even if it doesn't, what if we can't get rid of it?"

The Doctor looked up. "These people have invested their whole lives in this place, Martha—the dead ones literally. They're not going to give up without a fight. Besides, if we let slimy blow its seeds into space, who knows what planet it'll infect next?" He paused pointedly. "It could even be Earth. No, the fat lady's still in her dressing room, never mind singing. And we—" he tapped Martha's chin—"are going to make sure she can't find her costume."

"That is such a weird metaphor," I said, squeezing my eyes shut not-quite-fast enough to see the Doctor look hurt.

With timing just a second off, Orlo rushed into the room. "They've started up the drill!" he gasped, steadying himself on the back of a chair as the settlers crowded him. "I've just heard it! I wasn't sure at first—"

"Whoopdy-doo." The Doctor sounded tired. "The fat lady has…" He eyed me and cut off, his eyes narrow and thoughtful.

"Ooh, it's his 'Right! Time for a plan!' face," I nudged Martha before I realized she wasn't Grace. Bit of a mood killer, that.

"Is there a geologist in the house?" asked the Doctor. "Or a Sundayologist, I suppose. And not someone who studies ice creams, thank you."

"Ha ha," Martha said dryly.

"Yeah, well don't laugh, he read my mind," I told her.

A stocky black guy with an asymmetric beard stood up.

"Excellent!" said the Doctor. "What's the ground like out there? Will the shaft need some cleaning out?"

The man nodded. "It's been untouched since before the flood. I reckon it'll take 'em two or three hours to establish a proper shaft."

"Buys us a bit of time," the Doctor said, chewing his lip. "We know—well, I know—the hole will probably help more than enough bits of it to survive and colonize a thousand planets. And it's well within Pallister's capabilities to build the bomb. It fits perfectly with the settlers' memories of playing fetch." The Doctor turned to Orlo. "I hate to ask, but we need someone out there to keep an eye on the otters even more than ever. We need as much warning as we can get."

"Oh, me!" I cried. "You could send me for once!"

He gripped Orlo's shoulders. "You up for it?"

Orlo grinned. "Try to stop me."

"He's a good lad, that one," the Doctor said as Orlo vanished.

"Great, just great," I muttered, sinking back with crossed arms.

"Were you trying to tell me something, Tegan?" he asked. I didn't doubt he was genuinely confused.

"Anyway," Martha said, "how's the sonic?"

He fished it out of his pocket and gave it another go. The light was brighter this time, but quickly faded. Desolately, he tossed it into the air, and Martha caught it perfectly.

"Oh, well done, Martha!" I exclaimed.

"Technology!" the Doctor snorted blindly. " 'Sall rubbish in the end. Still, we have something even better at our disposal, haven't we?"

"Your brain again?" I said hopefully.

His face fell. "Am I that transparent?"

Martha and I exchanged looks. "As glass," I grinned.

He vanished a minute later in the direction of the bio lab while Martha went to find schematics of the drill site. I followed him after a moment, and saw him with his sleeve rolled up, looking almost defeated. "Doctor, are you all right?"

He looked up at me, startled (he'd been too deep in thought to hear me come in), and then sighed. "Tegan, I need you to do something for me," he began, and something about the way he was looking at me made my heart sink. And what he said next didn't help. "And I'm sorry, I really am, but you're not going to like it."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I wished I knew what the bomb looked like. Candy didn't even know about it. We knelt at the base of the drill control room. Candy hissed, "Look! It's Orlo! Up there!"_

_My heart rose. I knew what to do. "You have your flashlight?"_

_"My what?"_

_Right, I thought. Because all of Time and space is British. "Torch."_

_"Uh, yeah. Should I signal him?"_

_"Definitely. Tell him this…"_

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"What's going on?" Martha cried, bursting into the main bio lab. The Doctor was fiddling around with tubes of liquids in his shirtsleeves while I watched him, my arms folded in the universal sign for disapproval. The Doctor had been right. He'd asked me to do something very clever, and I hadn't liked it one bit.

"What?" said the Doctor with forced brightness as he took a test tube out of a clunky-looking old centrifuge and held it up to the light. Under the harsh fluorescents glancing off the brainy specs, his eyes were unreadable. My ADD should've wondered if he'd done that on purpose, but I was too busy fuming.

"You rushed off," Martha said. "We found some plans that they're looking over back in the Council chamber. Then I heard Tegan shouting."

"Teenager who cried wolf," the Doctor suggested.

Martha looked expectantly at me, probably expecting me to protest. The fact that I didn't didn't help the suspicious situation.

"You're up to something," she said.

"Me? Us? How could you!"

"What's that?" She pointed to the yellowish liquid that the Doctor was now pouring into a little glass and metal cartridge.

He frowned at the ceiling, as if the answer to Martha's question was written there. "Plan B. Or Plan A, depending on whether I can come up with Plan C."

I couldn't help but glare at him. _You'd better, _I thought.

The Doctor filled another cartridge. "Right," he said, tossing the capsules into the air and catching them with his other hand. He took off his brainy specs, swiped up his jacket, and slipped it on. "No time like the present. And if we don't hurry, there really won't be."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

_"You're mad," Candy whispered to me._

_"Stark raving, yup. The Doctor's rubbing off."_

_Her face lit up. "I love it!" She dug out her flashlight. "I wish I had thought of that."_

_Under my breath, I laughed nervously, "Oh, you would have."_

_"What was that?"_

_"Nothing."_

_Finally, in Morse Code, Candy began to outline my stolen plan to Orlo. I inched my way to the window._

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

If someone had told me a week before that I would find myself heading deliberately toward a nuclear bomb, I'd have told them they were watching too much Doctor Who. The irony was now about to kill me. "Puts your life in perspective," Martha said to me, her hand on my shoulder. "Doctor, what if we can't stop it?"

"Oh, we'll stop it." But the Doctor always sounded confident, thus his confidence didn't give me any.

Oh, I _hated _him for what he was going to make me do. What if he was wrong? What if it didn't work? What if, Heaven- no, God forbid that something goes terribly wrong, and I kill him?

"Because if we don't," continued the Doctor breezily, "slimy-boy wins, and we lose. And if I have one fault, it's that I'm a bad loser."

_You and me both, _I thought.

"You sound as if you do this kind of thing often," I said out loud. I'd thought of our cover for the first time in hours.

"More often than is healthy." Martha pushed a branch aside as we started up the slope that would bring us out above the drill site.

A rustle of bushes further along the slope caught our eyes. "Is that Orlo?" I whispered.

It was kind of hard to tell. I could only just make out his stocky frame, back towards us, squatting in the undergrowth. The-outline-of-somebody-that-might-have-been-Orlo turned to look over its shoulder and ran off the opposite direction from us.

"Just as well," muttered the Doctor. "If this doesn't work, I want him as far from here as possible."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_I did feel a little guilty for stealing Candy's thunder. But… only a little. For the Doctor!_

_I slowly stood upright and stepped into the light. Candy gave me a hopeful thumbs-up as I walked, keeping my face fixed and flabby like the others settlers'._

_The plan seemed less perfect than in the book. Since the Sundayans and the otters were just acting on slimy's instructions, not being remote-controlled, there was no reason I wouldn't blend in if I acted non-threatening. Still, my legs shook as if they were each planted on earthquakes while I threaded my way through the others and around the building to the doorway. Not even risking a peek back to see if Candy had my back, I walked inside._

_No one had bothered to turn on the lights, but the cool room had enough illumination from the windows for me to see what was happening. A woman was standing motionless by the schematics on the big desk, which could only mean slimy was done with her. In fact, out the window, all the settlers and otters had halted. I prayed the changes I'd made didn't mean I was too late. Or too early. Could too early be a bad thing?_

_The only three settlers moving pushed a cart with a big, grey cylinder almost as big as they were. Following on behind was a grey electrical cable. With my eyes, I traced it in the opposite direction, realizing it snaked in the window of the control central where I stood. It ended in a large, locking plug on a control panel. With a glance at the still-inert woman, I tried to turn it, but it was fixed tight. A keyed collar held it in place. Frantically, I wrenched it with my bare hands, but I've never been strong and it was no use. Not a budge._

Think!_ I told myself. _What happens next?_ I knew exactly what I was looking at with no way to disarm it._

_Then something moved in the shadows. Several somethings. One otter after another appeared and surrounded me._

_"We meet again." I lost my cool and giggled. "I've always wanted to say that!"_

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

The Doctor clenched his fists and stared out over the drill site. "So close…"

Down in the mud, we saw the last of the kidnapped settlers and motionless otters. The only movement came from the base of the drill tower.

The Doctor squinted. "Say I run down there full tilt, and it'll still be too late," he whispered and pointed. Even as he spoke, the settlers heaved the bomb. It tumbled from the back of the cart and out of sight into the drill shaft.

Like battery-dead toys, the settlers toppled and remained still. The cable looped on the ground began to unravel down the hole.

This can't happen! I panicked, a thousand thoughts running through my head. What about the rest of Doctor Who? Is it all wrong? Have we damaged it? Can't the Doctor do something? What about Grace? Is she far enough away that she'd remain unharmed? I almost hoped that she wasn't. I'd hate for her to be stranded on this planet, hundreds of years in the future, alone. …What if it ends here?

Then I die.

Without looking round, the Doctor reached out to his side and took Martha's hand. The two of them ending together. "It's been fun," he whispered, looking down at her.

I saw her fingers tighten. "The best," she said without a trace of sadness.

"Smith and Jones," I added bleakly, feeling very alone.

The Doctor looked at me, opened his mouth as if to say something, and then—it cut him off.

Absolutely nothing.

"Maybe it's still falling," I said at length.

"Maybe it is," the Doctor replied. We waited until the end of the cable—"which, really, should be plugged into a little box with a great big handle on the top," the Doctor remarked—flicked into sight like a snake's tongue and vanished after the bomb.

"You know," said the Doctor slowly, as if trying not to be too presumptuous, "I always said the Chinese did the best fireworks displays. This one's rubbish, isn't it?"

And before Martha could say anything, he grabbed her in a whopping great hug and lifted her off her feet, swinging her round in the air a full three twirls before plonking her on the ground. Still laughing, he grabbed my head and fiercely tousled my hair. "Like I always say," he grinned like a loon, "technology—all rubbish in the end!"

"What happened?" Martha asked dizzily. I wasn't feeling too stable myself.

"At a guess, I'd say our moist little friend forgot to plug something in. That, or—" He stopped at the sound of an elephant crashing through the forest. I jumped as Orlo stumbled out of the bushes. Hadn't he been going the other way?

"Candy," Orlo panted.

"It's just food, food, food with you." The Doctor rolled his eyes, still grinning hugely. "Hang on, I might have a biscu—"

Orlo shook his head, catching his breath. "No. Candy. Candy."

"Candice? What about her?"

"She… she did it."

Realization dawned on the Doctor's face. "Candice did that? She sabotaged the bomb?"

As if Candy had heard him, a little face peered around the side of a building. "Candice Kane!" bellowed the Doctor. "Get yourself up here! Now! There's a serious hugging waiting for you!"

"Actually," she called up, "it was Grace! I just knew the Morse Code."

Grace walked around next, looking shy and a bit out of breath. The Doctor said nothing as the two girls raced up the slope toward us, a scampering procession of otters following. One had a grey, smudgy patch on its ear.

"I think those are Ty's otters," I said, dazed.

Orlo and Candy hugged, a bit awkwardly. "Your spelling's terrible," he said. "How d'you spell sabotage again?"

She playfully punched his arm.

"What do you think, Martha?" the Doctor asked in the meantime as Grace reached him.

Martha looked confused. "Uh…"

"I completely agree," he cut her off, his smile gradually spreading. It got almost emotional. "Oh, Garace. You've just earned your place in the TARDIS crew."

Grace whooped uncontrollably and claimed her hug in a tackle.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

_That hug was like nothing else in the universe. More than worth my trouble on Sunday, the Doctor's arms were tight and safe, and—and—he had just made it official!_

_Finally I let go, wiping a big tear out of my eye. "Okay, Candy's turn."_

_I couldn't help noting my hug had lasted longer, although I immediately felt cheap for doing so. No need to be stingy with him, I thought and nearly squealed aloud. You'll be with him all the time now!_

_"What did you do, though?" the Doctor asked us. His eyes flicked over the silent line of otters paw-in-paw, looking up at us expectantly._

_"I read it in a book once," I said, figuring it would sound like a joke. "Uh… I figured that whatever they were dropping had to be bad and tried to unplug it. Only it was locked in—and, Martha, our otters showed up." I smiled at them, to their appreciative squees, dancing from foot to foot with the attention. I felt like doing the same. "They said 'We help,' so I pointed to the cable and asked them to cut it." I felt my gut twist. "I didn't think right then that it might be electrified."_

_"Nah," said the Doctor. "Only needed a tiny trigger signal."_

_"Lucky for them," Martha said._

_"Lucky for us," Tegan added. She kept shaking her head at me, as if she couldn't believe it._

_"Trigger signal?" Candy looked puzzled. "Trigger for what? What was that thing—a nuclear bomb or something?"_

_I laughed before I could stop myself._

_The Doctor shrugged and winked. "Something like that."_

_Tegan pulled me aside. "Wow, Grace. Now that you're the Doctor's BFF, will you put in a good word for me?"_

_"Of course," I said magnanimously. Then laughed because I couldn't take it all seriously._

_"Congratulations," she grinned._

_"Thanks. Good thing I read Wetworld," I added in a low voice._

_"What?"_

_"Doctor Who novel. Great stuff. I tried to tell you earlier."_

_Tegan's eyes widened. "You really _did_ read it in a book? Grace! And here I thought you were thinking like a companion, you hijacker!" And she whopped me on the arm._

_I looked over my shoulder; no one was listening to us. "Shh! So what if Candy should have done it? She got credit, too, and she didn't have to get the Doctor to approve her for a companionship. When it comes to the Doctor, I'll take hugs—'cause he really does give the best hugs—where I can get them. And it really hurt to take Martha's…" I trailed off._

_Tegan pulled me into a hug, which I got the impression she'd been holding in for the last few minutes. "I'm just mad that Wetworld was checked out at my library—it could have been me."_

_"You read plenty of Martha books I didn't," I reassured. "Your time will come."_

_"So, what exactly happens next?" Tegan asked, her voice now shaking._

_"Uh…"_

_"We've got to get down there, and quick," the Doctor answered for me, suddenly fired up. I wondered how long he'd been listening, but he didn't let on he had at all. "We need to demolish that drill before slimy realizes that his little firecracker's turned into a damp squib. And we need to get the settlers out of there before slimy gets another shot at them."_

_"It'll try again?" Candy was aghast._

_"Wouldn't you? It nearly worked, and once slimy works out what went wrong, it's bound to give the plan another go. There's still the Sunday City generator station's power core, remember? Come on!" Before anyone could say anything, the Doctor was scrambling down the bank towards the drill._

_We stepped over the otters, the Doctor explaining that when they would wake up in a few minutes, they would be as smart and friendly as ours. "Hopefully," he added, "they'll have the commonsense to avoid the water."_

_I stopped suddenly, aware of a sound I hadn't heard before: a soft scraping, like a heavy body being dragged across dry soil. Tegan grabbed my arm. "You know what that is, right?"_

_She was asking me, but the Doctor, looking up towards the roof of the control room, answered softly, "It's the man with the matches come to see why his fireworks display didn't go off."_

_Moving over the roof and descending rapidly towards us was the puppet-like form of—I assumed from my knowledge, since I'd never had a good look—Pallister, throbbing green tendrils still buried in his skull. The look on Tegan's face told me his flesh was even more decayed and disgusting than before. As the swamp creature lowered Pallister, I could see the bones of his right hand and arm poking through the rotted flesh. The right leg was missing at the hip. I wanted to throw up._

_"Back away," hissed the Doctor, pushing Martha and I behind him with one hand, Candy and Tegan with the other. "Move. Now!"_

_I turned instinctively to see a shimmering tide of green-black flesh oozing around the sides of the control center like a huge hand._

_"You have interfered," came the creature's voice from Pallister's mouth. His body was too damaged to foster a recognizable voice. I could see a bloated, black tongue loll out over his lips, the dead jet stare transfixing me. "The spawning time is here, and you have interfered. You will interfere no more."_

_With that, two huge tongues of oily flesh licked out from around the building and lunged for us. For me, again._

_"Wait!" shouted the Doctor, raising his hands. "Listen to me!"_

_"Oh yeah," said Martha scathingly. "That's going to…" She trailed off as the tendril miraculously paused in midair, to my great relief. Orlo, Candy, and Tegan were staring at it in silent horror._

_"Why?" said Pallister slowly._

_The Doctor yelled at him, "I can help you find other planets to colonize. That's what you want, isn't it? To blow yourself into pieces, give your children a lovely little start in life, eh? Well, let me help."_

_After a moment's silence, "How?" The tentacles flicked lazily in the air, like lizards' tongues, as if they were tasting the Doctor's statement for truth._

_"My spaceship—the TARDIS. It's how I got here, how I came to this planet. A blue box. You've seen her: you pulled Martha and Garace out of her, remember, underwater? The otters picked up her image from you."_

_"This…?" said Pallister. The tip of the tendril reshaped itself into a rough, featureless approximation of the TARDIS._

_"That's it!" cried the Doctor eagerly. "You know where it is—if you get it out of the swamp, I can use it to take your little slimy babies to a dozen planets. Why just a dozen?" He shrugged. "Make it a hundred—no, a thousand! I can spread your children across the galaxy better than you could ever do yourself. Not wasting ninety-nine percent of them just for the sake of the one percent that land near a good school."_

_I saw Martha subconsciously mouth the word, _Trick_._

_"Why?" rasped and gurgled Pallister's broken mouth._

_"Why? Because I'm like that—always stopping for hitchhikers, aren't I, Garace? And because it's the only way to make you leave this planet—and leave these people."_

_Pallister just stared at us—or the creature behind did. I wondered if it knew._

_"Yes," said Pallister. Without warning, the green tendril clamped around the Doctor's head. Candy screamed and staggered back. The rope of alien flesh spread out and began to engulf him._

_"You will help me," Pallister said soullessly. "You will be me. I will take the TARDIS. I will be everywhere. Now… show me how!"_

_"No!" Candy hollered, frantic._

_I held her back physically. "This has to happen, Candy! I know!"_

_"How do you know?" she shouted, trying to wriggle away._

_"I just do! You can't interfere!"_

_"But you're gonna let Martha and Tegan?" she hissed back as Martha raced after the Doctor. Tegan had also moved, but off to the side, watching everything with an entirely foreign expression on her face. She seemed small and insignificant, alone on the sidelines. And I could've kicked myself for not noticing it sooner. Ty wasn't there.__ She was supposed to be there, she was the one that stopped the slimy. If she didn't, who would?_

_The creature began to pull the Doctor back across the mud. Martha pounded her fists against the creature's hide, but that was still useless. Through the translucent flesh woven with dark veins, I could see the Doctor's features—his mouth open in horror, his eyes wide. It was spreading slowly down over his shoulders like gelatinous oil, smothering him. His kicking legs spattered mud everywhere, and I knew from experience he had just seconds before he passed out from lack of oxygen. Even now the creature would try to push into his mouth, nose, ears._

_"Stand back!" Tegan ordered, holding a tiny gun._

_Martha turned. "What—" She stopped, watching Tegan fumble with two glass and metal cartridges, that eventually snapped into the top of the gun._

_My death-grip on Candy loosened, and she took a step forward. "I've seen those before, back in the bio lab. How did Tegan—? Is this _supposed_ to happen, too?"_

_I couldn't answer her._

_"Martha, I said, stand back!" Tegan shouted with surprising force, raising the gun with both hands, shaking. I detected something almost Doctor-ish in her tone._

_"What are you doing?" Martha yelled, refusing to move._

_"God bless Martha," Candy whispered._

_"Plan A," Tegan said grimly—and fired. With a soft pht, the feathered dart bounced harmlessly off slimy. Tegan let out a sob, as though she'd really, _really _wanted that to work. Her eyes began filling with tears. "I'm sorry, Martha—Candy—Grace. I'm so sorry."_

_I, like Martha in the book, once again heard the echo of the Doctor's voice in Tegan's—the countless times he'd apologized to others for things done to them that he had no control over, that he felt, maybe, he could have stopped. And I knew—from Martha's face, her eyes, as much as from the book—what she was thinking._

If the poisoned dart can't penetrate the creature's flesh, there is only one way to get into its system: through the Doctor.

_Martha leaped forward. "No way! You can't!"_

_But it was too late to stop Plan B. In silence, the dart buried itself in the Doctor's leg._

_Martha and Tegan both sank to their knees as the creature continued to envelop the Doctor. Candy, indescribable horror on her face, ran up next to Martha and just stared. I hung back, helpless to explain to them, as the tide of alien flesh rolled over his thighs and the dart. His body twitched as if he were still fighting, a human impossibility. "But the Doctor isn't human," I said aloud._

_"He's still as good as dead," Candy shouted at me. "If this is strong enough to kill the creature—"_

_Silently, the alien monstrosity dragged a still, fully cocooned Doctor toward the water. And suddenly it stopped, and a weird change came over it. Like condensation on a cold glass, its skin began to frost over. The cloudiness began to spread from the area of the Doctor's head, radiating outwards. It spread as far as the Doctor's feet protruding from the alien flesh._

_With a horrid ripping sound, the creature's tendril burst, showering Martha and Tegan with warm, slimy goo, and the Doctor collapsed in Martha's arms, choking._

_I was at his side instantly, Orlo and Candy just a second behind, pulling the stuff from his face and out of his mouth._

_Tegan stared past him coughing up the alien muck at the bulk of the swamp creature's tendril writhing. The frost spread into the rest of the body hidden in the water as more and more of the creature's body fluids pumped across the soil._

_A dull thud behind Martha made her turn to see Pallister's body sprawled on the ground, its supporting tendrils burst with gushing, green-black ichor._

_Tegan and I helped Martha to her feet as Orlo and Candy dragged the Doctor off her and away from the dying alien. When we were clear of the spurting fluid, Martha rushed right back to his side to cradle his slime-covered body again. He coughed in her ear and tried to push her away, but she was having none of it. Orlo eventually prised her off, and I wanted to smack him for it._

_"I'm not sure which was worse," the Doctor choked, trying to sit up and wipe his face on his hands, "slimy smothering me or you smothering me." He grinned stupidly. "Actually, it's no contest. Hello, Martha—you don't look half different through green glasses." Over her shoulder he called in what seemed to be disappointment, "Garace! Tegan! I'm surprised at you. Don't you want to smother me?"_

_And then he fainted clean away._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

A/N: I, Sara, feel the need to inform all of you that despite the misleading perspective changes, Zoe transcribed/edited 97% of this adaptation of Wetworld. She spent weeks typing endlessly and tirelessly, giving me an almost finished product that I edited to be slightly more characteristic of Tegan. Let's all take a moment to cheer for Zoe Alice Latimer!

* * *

_"But why didn't the poison kill him?" Martha asked as she finished wiping the slime from his face._

_"It wasn't poison." Tegan tossed the tranquillizer gun to the ground with disgust._

_"But it killed that thing—didn't it?" Candy asked._

_"Actually," said the Doctor muzzily, opening his eyes, "I'm rather afraid that I killed it."_

_"So what was in the dart?" I asked, as if I didn't know. Tegan gave me a wry look._

_"A clever little solution of RNA." He sat up and rubbed the back of his head before examining the goo on his hand and pulling a disgusted face. Before we could stop him, he sniffed his hand and licked it. "Ew!" he said. "Needs salt."_

_"Stop it," Martha chided, slapping his hand away from his face. "What did you do?"_

_"Well, it all seems a bit obvious now."_

_Martha crossed her arms. "Not to me, it doesn't. Stop being smug."_

_He peered past her, where the creature's remains were nothing more than a huge, dark stain on the ground. Shreds of green-black flesh lay around like the tatters of a popped balloon. "Slimy there controlled the other organisms with proteins injected along with RNA to transfer memories and images. So it occurred to me that it might work the other way round: if I could get the right proteins and RNA to work inside it, I might be able to, well, mess about with its metabolism."_

_"Ty told him it was dangerous," said Tegan, fixing the Doctor with a look that might have been frustration, and also admiration._

_"She did," the Doctor admitted. "That's why I couldn't tell you, Martha. I knew you'd try to stop me."_

_"If it's any consolation, Martha," Tegan said sheepishly, "I already tried."_

_"So this RNA," Martha said sternly. (I would just like to say that I had always liked Martha, but in person? Amazing.) "How?"_

_"The marvelous Doctor-o-tronic!" he beamed up at her. "I told you, best biological computer around."_

_"No, that was me," Tegan said._

_"Shush. I had to make direct contact with the creature to be able to work on its metabolism, which is why I offered it the TARDIS." His expression became serious. "I knew it wouldn't be able to resist trying to control me like it did poor old Pallister, but I had to give it the option. There always has to be a way out. Just a shame that people don't take it when it's offered." He shrugged. "Ah well. Anyway, it'd had so much practice that it knew exactly what to do to me—or thought it did. It started to invade my body, and when it did, I invaded its body and reprogrammed the RNA string that Tegan injected into me to destroy its outer membrane." He grinned, back to his jokey self. "Didn't they teach you anything at medical school, Martha?"_

_"You make it sound so easy, you do," I said, shaking my head. "A girl could get used to anything."_

_"Provided she gets the chance," he said significantly, smiling._

_"I never would've done it, except he couldn't have earlier on," Tegan said, "in case it broke down too quickly—or the slimy caught on. It had to be at the very last minute." Tegan sighed and rubbed her eyes, as if trying to remove the image of what she'd just done. "I'm sorry, I really am. I would've explained, but there wasn't time."_

_"Hey, you were scared too," I said. "I could see your hands shaking."_

_Tegan looked down, examining her hands. Martha reached forward and patted her shoulder._

_"But we forgive you," Martha said, smiling reassuringly at her. The fact that she said "we" was almost too much excitement to bear._

_"But," she continued, turning back to the Doctor. "If you ever do that again, you really will need a doctor," she glared._

_"Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, Miss Jones," the Doctor smiled. "But you're getting there. One day you'll make a great doctor."_

_Martha shook her head. "With you about, who needs another one?"_

_As we wearily made our way back to the settlement, the Doctor explained how slimy had found out about Pallister because the man had been at the forefront of poor Col's mind when Col got caught. "So straightaway it knew about the ship's power core and bombs and what-have-you," he said as we entered the hospital. _

_Ty was in the main ward. At least, I assumed that the older black woman was Ty. It was good to finally meet her after having read and stolen so much about her._

_The Doctor sat down beside her and told her how we'd taken care of the slimy. "And I take it, Professor Benson," he concluded, "that you'll capture and cage no more jubjubs?"_

_"No more what?" Martha asked._

_Tegan laughed. "That was my idea! Something new to call the bear-faced otters."_

_"Was it?" I asked, genuinely surprised for once._

_"Hey, I can make clever Lewis Carroll references, too!"_

_"No, I mean in the book—oh never mind," I whispered._

_"The otters," Ty said firmly. Well, as firmly as she could._

_The Doctor pulled an I-give-up face._

_"If I'd known they were as smart as that," Ty said, "I'd never have done it in the first place. And talking! How come no one ever heard them talk before?"_

_The Doctor threw a glance and Martha, Tegan, and me. "Blame us for that one. You might find them less chatty when we're gone, but there's nothing to stop you from trying. Come up with a completely new language you both can understand. You could call it Tyrellian. Or ottyrellian." He paused and pulled a lemon-sucking face. "Nah, maybe not. Just show them a bit of respect—they were here first—and this could be the start of a beautiful friendship."_

_"Something you know all about, eh, Doctor?"_

_"Oh yes," said the Doctor breezily. "Beautiful friendships. You can never have enough of those, can you, Garace?"_

_I grinned idiotically, wishing I could shout to the skies, "I'M A COMPANION!"_

_The only thing stopping me was dignity._

_Okay, okay, it wasn't dignity; it was Tegan twisting my arm._

_And Henig running up to tell us they'd found the TARDIS._

_,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,_

_We decided to pass on Arkon's Tiffany's, although the Doctor did find the most gorgeous yellow dresses for us. Problem was, they were doll-sized._

_"How're we supposed to fit into those?" I asked._

_"Wait, let me guess!" Tegan held up four fingers, ticking them off with each word. "Bigger-on-the-inside?"_

_The Doctor just grinned. "Garace, you and Tegan will want to pick out rooms…"_

_In the TARDIS. Where I live now. "Oh yes!"_

_It took me a little while to choose. Tegan moved in next door. "Remember, BFF, good word," she hinted as she went to bed._

_No one was looking after that, so I pressed my cheek to the doorframe of my room. "I know I cheated, but…"_

_It wasn't a voice by any stretch of the imagination. It wasn't even a thought. Just a feeling._

Welcome home.

* * *

A/N: In case you were wondering, the reason slimy didn't see into Grace's head was that he was using a different method than the one used with Col and Pallister.

Very importantly, between this chapter and the next one comes a crossover with Jim Henson's Labyrinth called Fourteen Hours. You can and should read it even if you haven't seen Labyrinth (and we're not just saying that, you really can, even though Labyrinth is worth a watch), but the story had to be posted separately. You can get to it through my profile.

Just a note, the first chapter is up now, but I'm afraid the others are gonna have to wait a bit. Zoe and I have some kinks to work out. Shouldn't be more than a couple of weeks, though, so be watching!

What are you waiting for? Go on! We love you guys. Thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

A/N:Hello, longsuffering readers!

We have decided to hold a contest for you. We'd love for YOU to write a one-shot relating to our story and tell us when you've posted it. THERE IS A PRIZE FOR THE BEST ONE! We'll judge them all, and the winner gets a cameo in our AU of "The Sound of Drums" as a London Whovian who saves our butts! Sound good?

**Deadline**

When the first chapter of our version of "Utopia" goes up, time's up!

**Rules**

No shipping allowed with ANYONE! EXCEPT Jareth/Tegan (if you must). No sex or swearing. No killing Tegan or Grace. You can torment us, but if you kill us you won't win. I understand we're just self-inserts, but hate-mail is no fun. No crazy out-of-character behavior from anyone.

Crossovers may be allowed if you tell us your intended category. If we don't know it, it won't be any good.

If no one enters, we'll cry and make something up for the part.

Additional A/N: No longer based on Wetworld.

Very importantly, between the last chapter and this one is a crossover with Jim Henson's Labyrinth called Fourteen Hours. You should read it even if you haven't seen Labyrinth (and we're not just saying that, you really can, even though Labyrinth is worth a watch), especially because of character development, but the story had to be posted separately. It's complete, so go ahead and read it.

Have you read it yet?

How about now?

All right, now that you've read Fourteen Hours, you can move on. The next chapters, until otherwise stated, are based in a general sense on the DW novel The Last Dodo by Jacqueline Rayner. Again, you can read the story even if you haven't read the original book, since we actually cut out about half of it and some really big twists and… well, anyway, the book is an exquisite waste of a couple of days.

To remind you, normal is Tegan Young's perspective. _Italics is Grace/Garace Anscombe's._

* * *

"Want to play Double Cranko?" I asked Grace. Double Cranko is a game traditionally played with checkers, chess pieces, a chess board, playing cards, and alcohol. We were underage, but since we'd just met J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, the Doctor had nicked us butter beer from the Three Broomsticks. Yes, that Three Broomsticks.

The Doctor was sitting in the seat, reading some book with a picture of a rocket on the cover. Martha stared at him with an expression that suggested she was thinking what I was wondering. One, how could he bear science fiction when he knew what it was really like out there. Did it amuse him, the way Glee'd begun to amuse me when I started acting? Two, he couldn't have been waiting for us longer than the minute or so we lagged behind… right? I'd never seen the Doctor hanging around reading before; he's not really the sitting type (manic movement is more his sort of thing).

That's when I remembered our lollipop-shopping. What do lollipops have to do with this? I'll tell you what: Nothing. But I'd been kidnapped, so the Doctor had promised me one, and while we were off getting one, we'd talked about how sorry we were that Martha missed our adventure in the Labyrinth. (I gladly would've traded places with her.)

So I knew that the Doctor wasn't reading for reading's sake; he was just waiting for Martha to come in so that he could explode her mind with her choice of trip. Martha hadn't come lollipop-shopping, so that explained her curious expression at the sight of the Doctor sitting and reading.

"Aha! Martha! Excellent!" he said, standing up. "So, Tegan, Grace, and I had a meeting—"

"Oh?" Martha looked less than thrilled, which only made me grin, as I knew what the Doctor was about to say.

"—and we agreed that we owe you a choice of trip. After all, you missed the Labyrinth and the Glitter King. Where would you like to go? We can go anywhere! Anywhere at all!"

Martha, much to our delight, boggled. So she'd flown on the TARDIS for a while. So what? It's all of Time and space.

Grace grinned with her tongue between her teeth. "Let the mind-exploding begin."

And Martha genuinely looked as if her mind had melted within her head. "That's an impossible question to ask before breakfast!"

(Of course, breakfast is relative. Grace's last meal had been a sub sandwich over fourteen hours ago; mine had been a drugged peach in a castle where Time didn't matter. And that's not counting the butter beer and lollipop. But for Martha, all that time had been five minutes.)

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Hungry? I can offer you a thirty-course banquet in Imperial Japan, a kronkburger on Reblias Beta, dehydrated protein tablets on a shuttle to Mars—or there's always chips, nice little chippie in South London..."

"Ooh, that sounds good," I said, having never eaten proper London chips.

"You would say that," Grace whispered.

"Yes, I would," I responded with a smirk.

"Atta girl, Tegan," the Doctor said, reaching for a feather lying on top of the console, his fingers only skimming it. Quite a feat, considering how tall he is.

"Doctor's pet," Grace muttered under her breath, the corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards.

"Evil twin," I responded, my smirk still evident on my face.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

_Martha jumped up and grabbed the feather. It was just a feather, gray and white, nothing to look at twice._

_"Seagull?" she asked._

_"Bookmark," he replied, slipping it in place and slamming his book shut with a ringing thud. Tegan and I stared incredulously at him. He looked at us, slightly perplexed; then it dawned on him. "Oh, right, see what you mean. No, dodo."_

_Now I got to stare at him for a second. This was one of those moments where the "anywhere in time and space" thing took me by surprise in the most unexpected ways. Colony on a muddy planet in the future, fine; Magical Labyrinth/Castle older than the Doctor, fine; Reblais Beta in the 150th century, fine; animal extinct for three hundred-odd years, my time (I say this not knowing what time period you're from), unbelievable. _

_I could tell by the startled expression on Martha's face that she felt the same thing. Tegan, on the other hand, was nodding slowly, almost as if she already knew it was a dodo feather. I would've asked her about it, but a sudden outburst from Martha distracted me._

_"That's where I choose!" she said, suddenly excited. "Please? To see a dodo! In its natural habitat," she added hurriedly._

_The Doctor seemed happy enough with her choice. "Okey dokey, all aboard the good ship TARDIS..."(I resisted an urge to break into song and dance.) "...for a trip to the island of Mauritius—let's say sometime in the sixteenth century, before human discovery, back when the dodo was as alive as..."_

_"As a dodo?" I offered helpfully._

_"Well, yes," he responded reluctantly. _

_He was at the controls now, twiddling dials—then suddenly he nipped back over to his chair, picked up the book and opened it again, extracting the dodo feather. He looked hard at his place, said, "Oh, I expect I'll remember where I was. Can't bear it when people turn over the page corners, just can't bear it." (I couldn't blame him.) He shut the book again, and then was back at the console, inserting the feather into a little hole I could've sworn wasn't there before. The feather stuck out at a jaunty angle like it was on a Peter Pan hat, anomalous but still somehow completely at home among the alien technology._

_"That," said the Doctor, "will tune us in. Land us right at their big scaly feet."_

Or Neverland,_ I thought. _Or Disneyland. As long as it's land, not swamp or bog...

"_Sort of an automatic dodo detector." He paused. "Automatic dodo detector. I ought to patent that, next time we go somewhere with a... what d'you call it? Place where you patent things."_

_"Patent office?" Martha offered._

_"Good name, like it. You should trademark it. Next time we go somewhere with a... what d'you call it? Place where you trademark things."_

_"I don't think there's an actual place—" I began, but the Doctor wasn't paying attention._

_"Here we go!" he cried. With a final flick of a switch, the TARDIS sprang to life, as excited as its owner to get going once more. Martha and Tegan fell back into the jumper seat as the room began to vibrate. I grabbed for a railing and thanked God I don't get seasick._

_The Doctor, as usual, seemed oblivious to his ship's eccentricities. He picked up the book once again and swayed over to an inner door, calling, "Going to put this back in the library. Can't bear books lying around all over the place, just can't bear it."_

"_I'd like to come," said Martha, flying after him. "All I've seen of the library is Tegan and Grace heading there in swimgear."_

Oh, that was a good day,_ I remembered with a smile._

_After they'd left, Tegan approached me. "You're gonna think I'm crazy."_

_"Tegs," I said in a wounded tone. I smiled reassuringly. "I already do."_

_"Touché, but still. Everything that's happening right now sounds really familiar to me, like I've heard this all before."_

Uh-oh, _I thought. "I know the feeling," I said._

_"On Sunday?" she asked. I nodded._

_"Terrific," she sighed._

_By the time the Doctor returned, the TARDIS had settled down a bit, although the rising and falling of the column in the center of the console showed that we were still in flight. But now she began shuddering again._

_"Here we are!" the Doctor announced. "One tropical paradise, palm trees and non-extinct birds included in the price. Incidentally, here's an interesting if disputed fact: the word "dodo" is a corruption of the Dutch 'doedaars,' meaning fat, um, rear. So if a dodo asks you if its bum looks big, probably tactful to fib."_

_The instant that the ship had ground to a halt, the Doctor's hand was on the door lever. This was something I'd begun to appreciate anew about him since we met him, that eagerness to explore, to tear off the wrapping of each new place like a child with its presents at Christmas._

_The doors opened. Framed in the doorway was a large brown-grey-white bird with a little tufty tail and a comically curved beak, far too big for its head. Honestly, I think the thing's size overall was what surprised me most—I'd been expecting maybe a turkey, and it was much bigger than that, a little more than half my height._

_But what shouldn't have surprised me was that, despite its unbelievably sophisticated technology, despite the Doctor's supposedly expert piloting, and despite the automatic dodo detector, the TARDIS had it wrong again. Oh, a dodo had been detected all right; there was the proof right in front of me. But what it wasn't surrounded by was a tropical paradise complete with palm trees. Instead there was a sign: _Raphus cucullatus, Dodo_. And there was a resigned dullness in the creature's eye._

_It was in a cage._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

My heart stopped when I saw the cage. Well, it wasn't really a cage; it was more of a Plexiglas box. The metal bars were part of a floor-to-ceiling grill that spanned the whole room. The really startling thing was that the dodo didn't move. Not a centimeter. Not a _milli_meter. Not the tiniest flick of a feather.

"It's stuffed," Grace said.

"No, it's not," I replied, without really knowing why. Something told me it wasn't dead, though I couldn't pinpoint what. That was the least of my worries; I kept getting this awful feeling that I'd forgotten something really, really important. And it had something to do with this bird-in-a-box.

When I could tear my eyes from the dodo, I looked around me and probably should've staggered in amazement. These see-through boxes were as far as the eye could see, and every box held an animal. Some boxes as big as the White House, some as small as a flea, each with a single creature inside it. I got the most bizarre feeling from it all. It was a combination of horror, surprise, not-surprise, and dread, although I wasn't sure what I was dreading.

I looked to my right, and the Doctor was taking it all in with a grim look on his face. We stepped off the TARDIS, and what do you know? An alarm went off. Martha groaned behind me. My ADD kicked in and I took a second to wonder how many times this'd happened to her and the Doctor. The feeling of dread took over once more.

"Maybe we should go back inside," I shouted over the siren.

"Oh, come on, Tegan, this is the good bit!" replied the Doctor, stepping forward with his hands in his pockets. He seemed unaffected by the wailing sirens.

I sighed, trying to smother the urge to run back inside the TARDIS and leave this place forever.

"So your plan is to stay here and be captured or interrogated or whatever by whoever set up that alarm system," quipped Martha.

"Oh yes," the Doctor agreed, nodding. "Especially now those guards have turned up."

He nodded to our left, indicating the men who were approaching. They looked a little like night guards from the Museum of Natural History, with their navy-blue uniforms and peaked caps, but, to my deep discomfort, carried some form of chunky black space gun in their hands.

"Stay right where you are," one called.

"Whatever you say," the Doctor called back cheerfully. "How about we put up our hands too? Would that be a help? Save you having to ask—"

"Shut up!" yelled one of the guards.

"Oh, right, yes, didn't think of that one—"

"Shut up!"

The Doctor raised one hand, and used the other to put a finger to his lips, bringing "Fear Her" to mind. "Shhh!" he hissed to us. We'd already put our hands up at the sight of the giant space gun.

What did I say? Sunday wasn't the last time. Just once, I would've liked to be the one to hold the gun, even for the satisfaction of throwing it down.

The men led us out the room. I found it hard to keep my attention on them during the long walk, surrounded as I was by all sorts of bizarre creatures. I kept subconsciously dropping my hand as I spotted a giant megatherium or what appeared to be a huge black rhinoceros on the other side of the grill and wanted to point it out to Grace, who was having similar difficulties. Martha was continuously nudging us to raise our arms again, thankfully. I got more than one irritated glare from a security guard.

The Doctor was also paying careful attention to our surroundings, cheerfully pointing out—verbally—a gorilla here and a velociraptor there. Cheerfully, yes—but I could see again that hardness in his eyes.

As we left the room, I'd noticed a sign above the door that read, simply, "Earth." A logo by its side showed the letters "MOTLO" in a circle around the head of a strange beast, a line drawing showing tusks and triangular eyes. The emblem was repeated over and over along the hallway we were led down.

"Are we there yet?" the Doctor asked like a petulant child on a car trip.

"Where's 'there'?" Grace said.

He shrugged. "Journey's end. I do hate this low-level threatening stuff that goes nowhere—what good is it to anyone? Let's get into the real stuff, that's what I say."

"Yes, I can't wait for the real danger to kick on," she commented drily.

"Good girl," said the Doctor, grinning at her as the guards came to a halt. "And it looks like we're getting closer! Excellent!"

Our escorts ushered us through a door, and we passed into a sort of foyer with signs pointing in all directions. I didn't need the presence of names such as "Mars," "Venus," or "Raxacoricofallapatorius" to know that these signs referred to planets. I already knew. This was really starting to bug me. Why couldn't I just figure out what I was supposed to remember before it happened? Especially since I kept thinking something really bad was going to happen. The words "Journey's end" hadn't helped.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

_Unlike Tegan, I wasn't expecting the signs to read the names of planets, but once I'd figured it out, I smiled to myself, recognizing names such as Malcassairo, Peladon, Tara, and Traken. I briefly thought there was a planet called, "Gift Shop" (What, it's not _that _stupid. There's a planet called Woman Wept, for heaven's sake), until I realized that the sign was indicating, well, a gift shop. This had to be a museum, or a gallery, something like that, although one wall displayed a map of continents and oceans, not the floor plan that one would expect in a museum lobby. There was no chance to investigate, however, as the guards led us through a door marked "No Entry" and we were marched down another hallway. At the end was a door bearing the tusked-beast logo that Tegan mentioned, and we were ushered through it. I shivered as I was led though, temporarily dizzy, although I wasn't sure quite why. I looked over and saw Tegan and Martha with similarly bemused expressions. Once inside the room the feeling passed._

_There were no grills or Plexiglas-boxed creatures here; it was a ludicrously mundane looking office containing a desk and chair. On the chair, behind the desk, sat a woman—a ludicrously mundane-looking woman. Middle-aged, gray-haired, too much red lipstick looking like a clown's mouth against her pale skin. V-necked red sweater with a white shirt underneath and a tweed blazer on top. The whole scene was just so normal that I felt like laughing—although the still-present guns convinced me that it would be a bad idea on the whole._

"_Hello!" said the Doctor, springing forward and lowering his arms so he could go for a handshake. "I'm the Doctor and this is Martha, Garace, and Tegan, and we're your prisoners. Which, I assume means we've done something wrong, but no idea what. Any clues? Martha? Anyone?"_

_The woman didn't take the Doctor's hand. (_They never do_, I thought to myself.) "Perhaps you would like to explain," she said in a low, slightly croaky voice, "what you were doing in our Earth section outside Northern hemisphere business hours?"_

_The Doctor reached over and took Tegan's left wrist, looked at its watchless-ness with irritation, then reached for Martha's wrist and looked at her watch. "Martha! Look at that! Your watch must be wrong. It's outside Northern hemisphere business hours and we never realized."_

_I thought about questioning whether the time on Martha's watch bore any relation to the time of her surroundings since she met the Doctor, but figured the Doctor knew that already._

_"Well, sorry about that," the Doctor continued. "Glad we've got it all cleared up; perhaps your chums here could put away their weapons now?"_

_The woman shook her head. "Oh, I hardly think so. Now you've finally been caught in the act, we're not likely to just let you go. We take theft and sabotage very seriously here at MOTLO."_

_The Doctor nodded sympathetically. "Of course you do. Good for MOTLO. MOTLO, MOTLO, MOTLO. Magic Otters Telephone Lending Office? Nah, magic otters don't use telephones—we know that from Sunday. Magnetic Ointment Treatment Light Orchestra?"_

_"My Odd Theoretical Love Outlet?" I offered, earning a bemused look from the Doctor and Martha, and an amused look from Tegan. "I'm an artiste," I reminded them._

_"The Museum of the Last Ones, as you can't possibly fail to be aware," the woman told us. "But perhaps you are not aware that I am Eve, the curator of the museum, and that I have no sense of humor." _

_Tegan and I exchanged a "gee, that's terrific" look._

_The Doctor looked around the office for another chair, but seeing none, perched on the edge of Eve's desk instead. She drew her chair back sharply._

_"I'm not after jokes," he said. "Actually, I haven't found much funny since we arrived here. Perhaps you could explain why your museum contains living specimens. Perhaps you could explain exactly what your museum is, and what it does. I mean, I wasn't planning to sabotage it, but I could always change my mind. You can help me make that decision. I realize you don't have a sense of humor, but that shouldn't stop you humoring me. What have you got to lose?"_

_Only the Doctor could sound that threatening and that disarming at the same time._

_Eve began to speak. Probably, I thought to myself without knowing exactly why, wondering why she was obeying the Doctor. After all, logic dictated that four people found in the middle of a building would have a fairly good idea of where they were without needing to be told. _

_I learned a different kind of logic since meeting the Doctor. _

_"This is the Museum of the Last Ones," Eve said again. "Home to the last remaining specimen of every otherwise extinct life form in the universe."_

_The Doctor blinked. "But that's trillions upon jillions upon, I don't know, gazillions."_

_"And thus the museum encompasses the entire planet," said Eve._

_Martha and I stared at her. "Not exactly a family day out, then," said Martha._

_"More like a year out," I muttered to myself._

_"You'd need to pack a fair few picnics," the Doctor responded before turning back to Eve. "I might be inclined to be impressed if I wasn't fairly sure I'm not going to like anything I hear."_

_"How could you possibly object?" Eve said. "This is the greatest preservation project the universe has ever known."_

_"I had an aunt who made strawberry preserves," said Tegan. "I don't recall it working out too well for the strawberries."_

_Eve ignored her. "We monitor every species, everywhere. When there is a single specimen left, our detectors pick this up. A collection agent is dispatched to retrieve the specimen, so it may be preserved for all time. Thus no species will ever be fully extinct while the museum exists."_

_"You expect the last one to just sit tight while you bumble down in your rocket ship or what-have-you?" I asked incredulously._

_The look she gave me was even more condescending then the dribble-on-shirt looks the Doctor gives us. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a pendant, a chunky metal square on which was a number pad and a large blue button. "The collection agents use teleport technology," she explained. "They can arrive at the correct location almost instantaneously." She dangled the pendant tauntingly in front of me. "But don't think you can use these to escape. Each one is keyed to a specific individual, and will carry that person only."_

_"As if we'd try to escape!" said the Doctor indignantly. "Still, that's not all you use the technology for, is it—I thought I detected a little teleporty swish as we came through your door. That makes sense; being curator of this whole museum would require quite a bit of commuting otherwise." _

_She reached behind her and slid back a wooden panel. Below was a bank of tiny lights the size of pinpricks, hundreds if not thousands of them, flashing in an endless sequence, one after the other. "Each flash of a light represents an alert," Eve told us. "A species has come to an end."_

_My jaw dropped and Martha opened her eyes wide in shock. "But there have been loads, just since you opened the panel!"_

_Eve simply nodded. "Indeed."_

_"The last dodo," I whispered under my breath. "But wait, there was a gorilla there. Gorillas aren't extinct."_

_"Garace, Garace, Garace," said the Doctor. "Think."_

_And I did. And I felt really stupid. "They're extinct _now_," I said. "Whenever now is—when is now?"_

_"I spotted an aye-aye, a Siberian tiger, a chubby little kakapo—puts it a bit after your time, but not necessarily by much."_

_Eve was looking both puzzled and fascinated. I realized we'd been talking a little too freely of our bizarre way of life—subtlety was never the Doctor's, or my, strong suit. Martha was clever enough to dig us out of our hole. "We left Earth a while ago," she said. "Traveling. It's very easy to lose track of time."_

_Eve nodded. "Oh, Earth," she said. "I noted you were found in the Earth section. One of our busiest, by far. It wasn't so bad once—the occasional mass extinction every few million years; most planets have those. But in the last few thousand years it's become quite a challenge to keep up with everything that's being lost."_

_I winced._

_"Ooh, biting social commentary there," the Doctor said. "Not that you don't have a point." He jumped off the desk. "Well, thank you for that—glad to have met you, nice to know what's going on, but I think we'll be getting along now."_

_The guards raised their weapons again._

_"Or we could sit here quietly," continued the Doctor, sitting down again._

_"The Earth section," said Eve, "is also the site of the most recent thefts. All have taken place outside visiting hours. No one has detected the culprit arriving in the museum." She paused. "You were in the Earth section. It is now outside visiting hours. Your arrival was not detected until you reached the section itself."_

_"I can see your reasoning, Sherlock—not a bad bit of deduction there," put in the Doctor. "Wrong conclusion, of course, but..."_

_"And you appear to have a grudge against our practices. Under galactic law, I have more than enough justification to have you imprisoned pending full investigation by the proper authorities." She reached out to her computer and pressed a few keys. "I see we can next expect a justice visit in five months, so until then..." Eve gestured at the guards. "Take them away."_

_"Hang on a minute!" Martha couldn't hide her shock. "You can't just lock us up for months!"_

_Eve smiled. "Oh yes I can," she said, and turned away._


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

A guard grabbed hold of my arm, while another pointed his space gun at me. I groaned. I was getting a little tired of having guns shoved in my face. I looked at Grace, who was equal parts excited and freaked out. This was the first time this had happened to her. (At least with guns. Apparently a lance or two had tickled her nose.) The three of us girls threw anxious looks at the Doctor, as if to ask "What are we going to do now?"

But just as my captor reached the office door, it flew open, hitting him on the nose. I took the opportunity to snatch away my arm—although in deference to the still-raised weapons, thought better of making a run for it. I looked instead at the new arrival.

It was a young man about Martha's age wearing forest-green overalls with the tusk-headed "MOTLO" logo on the chest. He was short, slightly chubby, and sported a light-brown goatee and a worried expression.

"Eve!" he said, ignoring everyone else in his agitation, "there's been another disappearance!"

The older woman closed her eyes for a second as if composing herself, and then said, "What is missing this time, Tommy?"

"The Black Rhino," the man told her. Eve's lips narrowed, but she remained composed—Tommy looked like he was about to cry.

"That makes five," Eve said, talking more to the air than to the man. "Five irreplaceable specimens. Five creatures lost for eternity." She turned to us. "If you're expecting any leniency, you can forget it right now. I will be pressing for the maximum penalties the law can offer."

The Doctor nodded and opened his mouth, but I beat him to it. "Technically, yes, you could," I began. "But, you'd be charging us wrongfully. 'Cause I saw the Black Rhino on the way in here, and pointed it out to Grace." I gestured to her.

She nodded vigorously. "That's right, I remember that."

"And you expect me to accept your word for that?"

I couldn't believe it. This woman couldn't possibly be as thick as she seemed. "Who among us looks as though they're hiding a twelve foot Rhino in their pocket? I don't even have pockets!" I flung my arms out dramatically. "You can look up my sleeves, if you like. Or in my ponytail! And if you're still not convinced, and you ask _very_ nicely, you can even pat down the sides of my legs to see if there's a rhinoceros sewn into the hems of my jeans!"

I looked over at my companions, who were all staring at me. The Doctor with a mixture of amusement and...was that pride? Grace and Martha were in shock. I realized I'd just seamlessly pulled off a Doctor rant. Wow.

Eve was none too pleased, and opened her mouth to speak, but the Doctor interrupted her, gesturing at the guards. "She's right, and what's more, considering the absence of one rhino would leave one fairly big empty space, I think your bully boys here would have noticed if its cage was empty when we wandered past on our way out."

Nervously, the guard with the squashed nose spoke, one hand still massaging his face. "I saw the rhino," he said.

The Doctor beamed at him. "Observant, that generic guard! Case closed."

Martha suddenly had a brilliant idea that Grace and I both wished we'd thought of. "Besides," she said. "We've actually been sent here to help investigate these... disappearances, and we can prove it." She stared hard at the pocket where the Doctor kept his psychic paper, with all of us willing him to get the hint.

"Oh, yes!" he agreed, giving her an appreciative smile and diving into his jacket pocket. "One set of proof, coming up."

The Doctor began to hand over the psychic paper, but Tommy reached out and grabbed it. He glanced down and then frowned. "This says you're undercover agents with the Galactic Wildlife Trust." He looked at Eve, confused.

"That's right!" beamed a relieved Doctor. "Undercover, that's us." (Which is, of course, why it was in conspicuous letters on the paper.) He nicked the psychic paper out of the man's hand and shoved it back in his pocket before Eve could ask to have a look. "So! Now all that's settled, and after these gentlemen have put down their weapons, which I'm anticipating in the very near future, let's get on with some investigating. That's what they pay us for, right, fellow agents?"

"Right. Yeah. Of course," we chorused.

Eve didn't seem precisely happy, but nodded. "Very well."

"We could do with all the help we can get!" said Tommy, smiling at Martha. She smiled back. Grace and I exchanged looks. I couldn't blame her, in all honesty. When he wasn't close to tears, he had a very jolly face. Odd choice of words, I know, but, well, you'd have to see him to know what I mean.

"I'm surprised you haven't set up CCTV cameras," Grace said in an effort to sound investigative and British.

Eve gave Grace another witheringly pitying look as before. (Grace got all the luck, right?) "We have almost 300 billion species in the Earth section," she replied. "Remotely monitoring each one is scarcely practical. We have to rely on movement sensors."

Grace looked crushed, so Martha leapt to her defense. "Which is probably why we're here investigating theft. Perhaps you should consider it."

Ignoring Martha, Eve cocked her head and looked at Grace strangely, then turned her look onto Martha. "Aren't you two a little young to be Galactic Agents?"

Grace and I looked at each other. "Yes. Yes we are," responded Grace. I grinned and looked over to see the Doctor grinning as well.

"Maybe we should visit the scene of the crime," Martha said. "Er, again. Without anyone arresting us, I mean."

"A very good idea, Agent Jones," said the Doctor. "Better start earning some of that enormous salary that our employers remunerate us with."

"I'll give you the guided tour," Tommy announced. "Earth's my beat."

"You're a tour guide?" Martha asked him.

He laughed. "Nope."

"But Tommy is extremely knowledgeable about the Earth section," Eve said. "He was responsible for collecting many of the most recent specimens."

"Team leader, Earth projects," Tommy clarified. "I'm one of the museum's collection agents. Come on, I'll introduce you to the team."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

_I felt that dizzy sensation again when we left the office, although this time I knew why: we were being teleported. I think we must have arrived back in a different hallway, because we didn't go through the foyer this time but went straight into the Earth section. Entering in a different place meant we really did get a bit of a guided tour before we reached the place where the rhino wasn't, which was fine by me._

_But I digress. First Tommy introduced us to the Earth team—Earthers, they called themselves. There were six of them altogether, which wasn't as many as I'd expected, but then I supposed even on Earth things aren't going extinct quite that quickly. There was Tommy's partner, Rix, a tall, skinny guy with big glasses; they looked like a comedy double act. And Rix was definitely the straight man, he barely smiled once. Then there were Vanni and Nadya, another partnership, both about Martha's age and a little on the giggly side. The last two were Frank and Celia. Frank, mid-thirties, chunky, kept sniffing; Celia, late twenties, kind of stuck up. That was the gang._

_The four of us smiled, and shook hands, and said how nice to meet them, and Tommy announced we were undercover secret agents, at which the Doctor, Martha, Tegan, and I groaned and exchanged exasperated looks, not that Tommy noticed._

_I think the Doctor was suffering from a severe case of mixed emotions. On the one hand, I knew he hated this place. Every now and again he would look at an animal, or even just catch sight of the MOTLO logo, and he'd tense up. And I guessed that he was even less impressed by Eve, the boss, than I was._

_But on the other hand... well, this whole creatures disappearing thing, it was a mystery, wasn't it? And even without the show, I'd known the Doctor for long enough to know how he feels about mysteries. Picture the mystery as one of those enormous cartoon magnets and the Doctor is made of metal. Clang! The mystery magnet drags him in and he can't resist it._

_Meanwhile, I could barely read Tegan, and she's not that difficult to figure out. At least, not when you've known her forever. She was looking around as if trying to see everything at once, probably looking for some clue as to what would happen next. I couldn't tell if she was enjoying herself or not._

_Anyway, I was telling you about the guided tour. Rix joined Tommy in showing us around. "Have fun!" called Nadya, as we set off. But fun really wasn't the right word. Well, some of it was fun, like Tommy's joking around (see below), but overall there was just too much awe involved. Tommy and Rix both took it in their strides—well, I guess you get used to even the most incredible stuff after a while—but I just gaped._

_Tommy got one of the security men to raise the metal grille so we could wander among the specimens—that's the word he used, specimens; I wasn't particularly impressed. I don't think the Doctor was, either, but he put on his polite face and didn't say anything. I followed his example. Tommy was nice, though; don't get me wrong. What Martha later called a "cheeky chappie." He made me laugh as well, although I felt a bit bad about it, because I don't think the Doctor liked that either—Tommy imitating a gorilla, or making fun of the dodo's alleged stupidity. I knew he was thinking it was disrespectful. And it was—but it was still funny. Sorry, Doctor. Sorry, animals._

_But I was telling you about the awe. But really, how do you describe awe?_

_Tegan and I hadn't been with the Doctor for very long, although it'd felt like ages, and we hadn't seen dinosaurs yet. Well, we had now. It was incredible. I thought about how privileged we are._

"_You know, Doctor, in our time there's this huge mystery of what the colors of things were," I said. Not only the Doctor, but Tegan and Martha looked at me too. "'No one will ever know for sure,' they say. But we know—we actually _know_." I felt my face fall a little and sighed, "But the illustrators, model-makers, and special-effects men were right. They're dull gray and brown and maybe a bit of green."_

"_What were you hoping for?" Martha asked curiously. "Pink and purple?"_

_I drew myself up with dignity. "I'm not gonna lie… Sunflower yellow."_

_Tegan patted my shoulder. "I guess God had more practical things like camouflage in mind."_

"_I'm sure Dr. Seuss is gratified by your vast disappointment," the Doctor smiled._

_You might recall that I met a number of bizarre beasties in the Labyrinth, so you'd think I'd be wearing a T-shirt that said, "BEEN THERE, DONE THAT, MADE FUN OF THE MOVIE BASED ON IT." I'll give you this: after seeing a fox attempt to duel lizards to the death whilst riding a sheepdog—now that I'm not emotionally destabilized by the abduction of my best friend and the possibility that she might turn into a goblin, it doesn't seem quite as upsetting. Let's just say, at the time, it gave me chills that a static beast in a museum just can't match._

_Therefore, the creatures I recognized didn't excite half as much as the things I couldn't have pictured. Some dinosaurs had spines, like porcupines, some had turkey-like wattles or amazing umbrella frills around their heads, like they were wearing a ruff made out of skin. Did you know velociraptors were feathered? Neither did I. Seriously, I could just look around me, and find out all this stuff. I think a paleontologist would faint with excitement._

_That made me curious, so I whispered, "Do you think paleontologists come here? How does the universe work just this little bit into our future?"_

_"If I've got my math straight," Martha whispered back after a moment, "this is about sixty years after our time. And apparently Earthlings are travelling the stars by now, taking it so far in stride that they can stop at tourist attractions." She laughed softly. "It's amazing."_

"_Well, yes and no," the Doctor said, keeping his voice low. "They're out and about a bit, bases on the moon, that sort of thing, a few more ambitious projects, but they're not likely to be popping in here. No organized rocket-coach trips or advertising leaflets through the door; as far as pretty much everyone on Earth is concerned, the dodo is as dead as, the dinosaurs are dinos-aren'ts, and the Indefatigable Galapagos Mouse remains sadly fatigablated."_

_That was a bit sad. Admittedly, after the paleontologist had recovered from his faint he'd probably find himself out of a job pretty quickly, what with fossils suddenly becoming rather de trop. There's something to be said for things remaining a mystery. What is there left when you know everything?_

_Not that this would be my problem as a highschooler who couldn't even remember the names of most of the things I saw, just the famous ones like the stegosaurus and the triceratops, and that was just in this one small area of the museum. I asked Tommy if we could avoid the Tyrannosaurus rex—Okay, so awe and amazement and all that, but when I was little, the food court of the mall used to have a giant (fake) one, and my dad would pretend he was going to feed me to it, as an to make me squeal and throw me up in the air._

_Yeah, that's it. Not everyone's backstories are as good as Heinz Doofenshmirtz's._

_Luckily, the museum's "specimen" was in a section about fifty miles away. Apparently some sort of super-speed monorail system took visitors around, plus a submarine affair for the water-based creatures, but, even so, a visitor could expect to see only a tiny fraction of the 300 billion exhibits, even when some of them were fleas or amoebas or similarly teensy tiny stuff._

_Isn't there a theory that people can't visualize any number over—well, actually I can't remember how many, but it's something small like five or ten? If that's the case, trying to comprehend a number like 300 billion is probably a bit ambitious._

_I remember when my parents took me and my siblings to the zoo, and there were elephants—the type with bigger ears, whichever that is—and probably about four different kinds of monkeys. If we were especially good, Dad would buy us a bag of nuts to feed them with (which is the equal and opposite reaction to the threat of T. rexes if we didn't clean our rooms), and we'd happily stand around for ages watching them nibble at the shells. There was a Giant Panda that everyone wanted to have babies, and some giraffes. The tiger always seemed to be asleep, and I'd often yell "Hobbes!" in an effort to wake him. My favorite animal to watch was the lion—Aslan on a day off. That makes... five species. I mean, there were probably more. Reptiles and birds and things, but we weren't so interested in those._

_But it makes you think, doesn't it?_

_Especially when a lot of those 300 billion species are in Plexiglas boxes right next to you and the Doctor wants to set them all free. And you kind of think he has the right idea._

.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,,

Tommy pointed out the diplodocus in the distance—at about thirty yards long, it stood out from the crowd—and was doing a goofy impression of it: "Der, my bwain is so small." His joking demeanor reminded me of a guy I knew back home, which made me smile until I realized the Doctor had dropped behind us. Leaving the Earther and my friends to their laughter, I slipped away to join the Doctor. He looked grim.

"Sorry," I said. "I know I shouldn't laugh. I know you hate this place."

"Not at all," he replied, fastening a terrifying fake smile on his face. "As you can see, I'm being nice and normal and friendly, and I shall keep on being nice and normal and friendly, and I shall not go on the rampage or anything, because I try not to do that unless there are lots of monsters around." He glared at the still-laughing Tommy. "Although, second thoughts..."

I hastily grabbed his hand and dragged him down to my level so I could look him in the eye. "Not now, this isn't reason enough," I said.

"All these creatures," he said. "They're stuck in a living death, Tegan."

I looked down, a sinking feeling in my stomach. "I know, it to be fairly honest, this whole place gives me the creeps. No, not even that, I just—I keep expecting something to happen."

"Like what?" he asked, all trace of anger gone.

"I can't put words to it." That was a lie, because I most certainly could. Something was going to happen to one of us.

No, something was going to happen to the Doctor. But not now, stuff happened first that led up to it, whatever "it" was.

I shook my head, as if trying to shake off this feeling. "That's not the point. The point is, I don't like this, you don't like this, and I'm sure behind the laughter and awe, Grace and Martha don't like this. But _they_," I pointed to Tommy and Rix, "see it differently. As far as they're concerned, these animals would otherwise be gone forever, and they would! They've got a freaking dodo! These are things that people without time machines would never see. And—and humans, it's our fault that these animals are gone in the first place. They see it as a way of balancing it out. They think of it as an apology to nature."

The Doctor shook his head. "It doesn't matter how they see it! Ice ages come and go, continents shift, conditions change. Nature didn't intend there to be Ankylosaurus or Dimetrodon in the twenty-first century; they were wiped out long ago, and why do you think that is? Do you really think you and your kind would around today if dinosaurs still walked the Earth? Yes, humans have mocked nature, wiping out the dodo and the passenger pigeon and the thylacine—but this place doesn't apologize; it laughs at her even more." He drew in a deep breath. "Better to die free than to live in a cage."

I shuddered without knowing why, although if I'd stopped to think, I could have figured it out. "The animals aren't aware, though, are they?" I asked.

But I knew, when we first came, I knew without a doubt that the dodo was still alive. Was it the book, or was it because I'd detected a spark of sentience?

I looked towards the distant diplodocus—so majestic, so serene—and shivered.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

_Tommy and Rix finally led us to the spot where the Black Rhino had been. I tried to think if I'd ever actually seen a rhino before. I couldn't really remember, and I felt kind of guilty about it. "You don't know what you have until it's gone," my great-grandmother used to say, and it was true—probably true of most of the human race._

_The see-through box now had a side missing, a big gaping emptiness at the front. The Doctor lost his surly expression, whipped out his glasses and jumped into full-on Sherlock Holmes mode, examining every inch of the outside of the cage, going down on hands and knees to peer closely at the floor surrounding it. Then he went over the inside with a fine-tooth comb, and I caught a brief hesitation before he climbed in. I shot a look at Tegan and Martha, and could see in their faces that they'd seen it too._

_"Any clues, Ace Ventura?" Martha asked, as the Doctor clambered out._

_"Apart from the footprints, the cigar ash, and the signed confession?" he said._

_"Yes, apart from those."_

_He shrugged. "Not really." He pointed at a small keypad at the top of the cage. "I take it that controls the stasis field?" _

_Tommy nodded. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief covered with little print dinosaurs, which he tossed into the box. Then his fingers dashed out a series of numbers at lightning speed on the keypad. The missing wall shimmered into existence and the descent of the still-floating handkerchief was suddenly arrested; it hung there in mid-air, a snapshot of time._

_We stared at the frozen hankie for a few moments; then Tommy reached out and tapped the pad again—I tried to catch the numbers this time, unsuccessfully—and the box's front vanished as quickly as it had appeared; the handkerchief floated gently down to the floor, from where Tommy picked it up and blew his nose noisily._

_The Doctor reached up to the keypad. "No sign of tampering," he said. "How many people know the access codes?"_

_"Just the six of us, the Earthers," said Tommy slowly, suddenly looking worried._

_"And Eve," added Rix. "And, really, we've never bothered to keep them that secret."_

_"But only the Earthers could switch off the movement sensors," Tommy pointed out. "The only time they went off was when you arrived here, Doctor." He didn't seem to realize that he and his colleagues were the main suspects. How thick could he be? Then again, he might have been double-bluffing, trying to remove suspicion by inviting it. I tried to figure this out, but was interrupted by—well, who d'you think?_

_"Sensors!" the Doctor cried suddenly. "Why didn't I think of it before? Come on, everyone, we're wasting our time here! Back to Eve's office!"_

_He dived off, calling "No time to lose!" over his shoulder. Martha, Tegan, and I fought to keep up with him. "What is it?" I asked. "What's up? Something about those movement sensors?"_

_"Nope," he replied, not slowing down. "Not them. Remember that bank of light? Alerts every time a population gets down to one. Presumably once that creature is in stasis, the alert disappears. But what if it's reactivated?"_

_"Of course!" said Tegan behind me. "So once the rhino was removed from stasis, its warning light would come on again."_

"_Yup."_

_"And if we can track down the rhino, we might be able to fine whoever nicked it," Martha concluded._

_"Yup._

_I thought about it. "But what if it's dead?"_

_The Doctor did a running shrug, something I seem to recall Tegan attempting once. (She lost her balance and fell on her face. Her nose hasn't been the same since.) "Then this won't work. But it's only been gone, ooh, twenty minutes max? Hope springs eternal, Agent Anscombe, hope springs eternal."_

_The Doctor's unerring direction sense (snort) brought us back to the exit, and he raced down the hallway and through the foyer while the rest of us struggled to keep up. By the time we reached Eve's office, the Doctor had already burst in._

"_Ta-da!" Tegan and I chorused to herald him. If we had hoped to lessen Eve's obvious disapproval, we failed. Ignoring her, the Doctor launched into an explanation of his theory._

_Luckily, Eve caught on at once, and her frown vanished. "I should've thought of that," she said. "But the alerts are in chronological order; it never crossed my mind to go back through past extinctions..."_

_"No time for tears," the Doctor told her, although I couldn't imagine anyone less likely to break down crying. The Doctor ducked behind the desk and pulled back the wall panel to reveal the warning system. He and Eve bent over it as we looked on anxiously._

_"Yes!" The Doctor looked up, beaming. Even Eve was smiling in delight._

_"You've found it?" asked Martha. The Doctor clicked his fingers in mock modesty._

_"It's back on Earth," Eve informed everyone._

_"So where do we go from here?"_

_"We go after it, of course!" said the Doctor. "Back to good ole Earth."_

_Rix looked slightly taken aback. "I think that's our job."_

_The Doctor flashed him a smile. "Oh, I think you'll find it's ours too." He turned to Eve. "You'll authorize us, I'm sure."_

_She nodded, and reached forward to open a desk drawer. From inside she pulled out four of the pendant-like devices and handed one to each of us, then turned to her computer. "I'll program you in," she said, and then, thirty seconds later, "Okay. All done. Enter these coordinates..."_

_She reeled off a list of figures, and Tommy showed us the buttons on the pendant to press. "Then it's the big blue one to operate it."_

_"Come on then," said Rix, impatiently. I got the feeling he was resentful of our involvement._

_"Earth ho!" called the Doctor._

_As if one, he, Martha, Tommy, Rix, Tegan, and I pressed our blue buttons. As if one, we disappeared..._

,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,

...and found ourselves somewhere else.

We were in a gloomy warehouse; bare concrete walls and floor made it seem colder than it was, and the dim strip lighting that was the only illumination didn't help. In a couple of corners lay things that I didn't want to investigate too closely; as disgusting as the things I saw on Sunday were, they didn't come close to seeing something that was certainly dead, and no longer whole. In another corner lay something more recognizable—what must be the Black Rhinoceros. The Doctor was already moving towards it, and we followed him warily.

"Look at you, you're beautiful," he said softly. Grace, Martha, and I exchanged looks. "There's no danger, it's been tranquillized," the Doctor called back as he reached the magnificent creature. But now that hard edge was back in his voice.

"Oh..." I said softly as I joined him, immediately spotting the problem. "Right."

Tommy was at my side in seconds. "Its horn," he said. "It's gone!"

For a second the anger in his expression matched that of the Doctor, a feat I thought wasn't possible.

The rhino had once had two horns, a huge, piercing spike that dominated its face, and a smaller, modest one behind that. It was the larger of the two that had vanished, leaving the creature, however giant, now looking forlorn and somehow feeble.

"Sawn off," the Doctor said, bending closer to examine the stump, crusty with dried blood.

"But why?" Martha asked.

Tommy was no longer the light-hearted joker of earlier; he looked disgusted. "One of the reasons they became extinct in the first place—idiots getting it into their heads that rhino horn could cure all ills. People'd pay through the nose for it, and poachers would be happy to provide." He sighed. "We should thank our lucky stars this one's still alive. The poachers didn't usually take such care."

I shivered, and looked up for the Doctor's reaction—but he'd left the drugged animal and was wandering over to a door on the opposite side of the warehouse. It needed a zap of the sonic screwdriver, but a few seconds later he was through. I'd begun to feel like Martha, Grace and I were spending most of the day following in his wake, but still trotted after him.

There was a tiny, spartan office through the door, containing nothing but a table, a chair, and a computer. The Doctor sat on the chair, wiggled his fingers as if he were about to launch into a piano concerto, and then plunged at the keyboard.

"Notice anything interesting about this room?" he asked without looking up.

I looked around. "Interesting" wasn't exactly the word I would've chosen to describe the room. To be honest, it looked like a room out of Joe Vs. the Volcano; there was no other furniture, no decoration, just a barely illuminating fluorescent tube in the ceiling. I suddenly understood what Joe meant about the lights sucking the juice out of your eyeballs. Boy, that was a great movie. Best soundtrack ever.

"There's no exit," said Martha from behind me, interrupting the bunny trail my brain had taken me on. "You can only go back the way you came."

_Oh,_ I thought. _Of course, that_ is_ interesting._

"And notice anything interesting about the way we came?" the Doctor asked.

This time it was easy, now knowing what I was looking for. "There was no exit in the warehouse either. You can only leave it by coming in here. There wasn't even a window."

The Doctor nodded. "Handy if you're doing something dodgy and don't want visitors, don't you think?"

"Maybe there's a teleport," suggested Grace.

"Which wouldn't be native Earth technology at this time," he said. "Yet another indication that it's an inside job, Agent Anscombe. The museum folk seem happy enough to zap around all over the place. Aha!"

We walked round to look over his shoulder and see what he'd discovered.

There was a list of names: Quagga. Bluebuck. Black Rhinoceros. There were a lot more than the five Eve had suggested. Below each name was, first, a short string of numbers and letter, second, a long row of figures. "What do they look like to you?" the Doctor asked all of us.

I looked at the top row, under "Quagga": 3.7M. "Million," I said. "The 'M' stand for million," I stated rather than suggested.

"Maybe," said Martha. "But wouldn't there be a pound sign or a dollar sign or something in front?"

"Not necessarily," the Doctor said. "And the other numbers?"

There was a few seconds of silence as we thought. "They're in the same format as the coordinates Eve gave us to get here," realized Martha.

"What's a quagga?" asked Grace. "Besides an animal, that is."

The Doctor looked sad. "Relative of the zebra, a sub-species—looks just like one, except it's only striped on the head and part of the body, and it's a chestnut-brown color with white stripes, rather than black and white like a zebra—a quagga crossing would show up on the road nearly as much, but it was a beautiful animal. Good old humans—they didn't even realize it was a creature in its own right until after the last one had died. In fact, they didn't even realize they'd all died out for years."

"Killed by humans?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"Oh yes, all the ones in the wild, end of the nineteenth century, shot by settlers who thought it might eat up the grass they wanted for their cows. The last known quagga died in an Amsterdam zoo in 1883. Or at least, the last known up till now. Goodness knows where_ MOTLO'_s—" He said the name disdainfully. "—one came from; hidden in a little corner of South Africa or in some private collection somewhere."

"And now it's gone too," I said, sadly. Only two minutes ago I hadn't know that this animal had ever existed, and now I knew that it had, and it had been lost, and lost again, and the sudden stab of regret was almost unbearable. "Sometimes I _hate_ people," I said with more force than I'd meant to. But to be honest, this wasn't the first time I'd felt like this. There have been many moments where the thoughtlessness and selfishness of humanity have infuriated me to the point where I completely understood why God flooded the Earth.

The Doctor grabbed my hands in his. "Tegan! No, no, no! Hate what some of them do, hate some individuals if you must, hate intolerance and injustice and slaughter and man's inhumanity to man, but never, _never_ hate people." He skimmed though the list, pointing out a name here, a name there. "The Paradise Parrot. The Ilin Island Cloudrunner. Whether or not humans were responsible for their disappearance, what you have to remember is that it was humans who were responsible for coming up with such inspiring, evocative names in the first place." He threw out a hand. "The cloudrunner! How brilliant is that? Some human discovers these fluffy rodents skitting about high up in the mountain treetops, and instead of calling them 'tree rats' or 'mountain mice', they decide to call them 'cloudrunners'! Don't you feel something stirring inside you when you hear that?" He smiled. "It's embarrassing, but actually some of my best friends are human."

I couldn't help but smile back, though I didn't quite feel it. Instead, I felt even more fear and dread. I decided to seek refuge in the mystery at hand. "So... someone's selling off these animals. The quagga and the bluebuck and everything. For outrageous sums of money. And the coordinates are where they've been taken, the delivery address."

The Doctor nodded. "That's exactly what I thought."

While the Doctor and I had been having a hearts-to-heart, Martha had opened a desk drawer. "There's a duplicate list in here," she said. Then she frowned. "That's funny. Here, the bluebuck's listed as 4.2 million. On the screen —" she checked—"it's 4.4."

"Maybe they had a sale," the Doctor said, in what I considered to be slightly bad taste. "Prices slashed! Everything must go! If you find an extinct animal on sale anywhere else for less, we'll refund the difference! As long as they don't do a 'buy one, get one free' ...that could cause ructions."

Martha gave him a look, and he adopted a falsely contrite expression in return. "Tell you what, it'll probably all become clear when we investigate. That's an idea! Shall we investigate, fellow agents?"

Grace glanced back through the doorway. "What about Tommy and Rix?"

"Well, we could tell the two suspects what we're up to..." He grinned, already programming the first listed coordinates into his pendant. "But you know what they say, four's company..."

Grace, Martha, and I looked at each other. "I don't think they say that."

The Doctor looked pointedly at each of us in turn before fixing his gaze on me. I backtracked. "Right, course, what was I thinking? Four's company, six is a crowd. Very famous... saying—we should go!"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes."

We pressed our blue buttons.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

_I got used to the zappy stuff then. I dealt with it by pretending I'd gone on a long train journey, only without the signal failures, the person next to you who takes up half your seat with their bags and tries to read your magazine over your shoulder, the $17 per muffin buffet, the lack of air conditioning and, of course, the train journey. That way it seemed like a really positive experience, instead of one where I felt sick and dizzy and suddenly worried that half my atoms hadn't made it, and those that had turned up were in the wrong places. I mean, what if something went a bit skewy and my ear got reassembled out of my nose or something? (And, believe me, that's not the worst example I can think of—it doesn't even include my atoms mixing with someone else's—but you'll have to use your imagination. No, on second thought, please don't use your imagination. Just forget all about it. Please._

_Also, I just lost the game. Now I bet you really want to kill me.)_

_Anyway, so we zapped away—destination who knows where, but that kind of thing doesn't bother the Doctor—on the trail of who knows what (but he doesn't let that stop him either)._

_And where we ended up—well, total contrast to the warehouse. Walls papered in velvet (if things can be "papered" in non-paper), carpets we had to wade through, chandeliers and huge vases and gold spots on everything. And right there with her back to us, a kid in a maid's uniform dusting the knick-knacks. The Doctor coughed and she turned around, saw us, and screamed. Two seconds later we were surrounded by what appeared to be armed butlers. Think about that: armed butlers!_

_Didn't faze the Doctor, of course. There we were, about to be thrown out by our ears—possibly with police arrest to follow and, who knows, maybe a snippet of violence on the side—but he just calmly stated that we had an appointment with the owner of the house. "I think not," says this one spiffily-suited butler, but the Doctor just replies, "Go on, go and tell 'em we're here. And say 'quagga.'" He said it like a code, and even though I knew how serious the situation was it was hard not to laugh, 'cause it sounded like such a funny word, like "wibble" or "bingle." But the guy obediently vanished, and I assume he did what the Doctor asked because a couple of minutes later this woman appeared in the doorway, and she was so in control and obviously filthy rich she had to be the person we were looking for._

_Besides, we could see right away that she had bought the quagga. And I suddenly felt sick._

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

"Ooh, nice coat," said the Doctor, plonking himself down on a spindly chair that creaked under his weight. Yep, it was that spindly.

It wasn't really a nice coat at all. In style it resembled a biker jacket, cut high on the waist and tightly fitted. It was made of coarse skin, the hairs on it lying flat and glossy, like on a horse's rump. One sleeve and lapel were striped brown and white, the stripes fading to pure brown for the rest of the jacket.

The woman, frowning, gestured for the hordes of servants to leave the room. "I shall be fine," she said in a deep European accent, as one or two looked ready to protest.

"Yes, your ladyship," said one, the butler who had fetched her here, and led the rest out the door.

"You requested an audience," said the woman, turning to us. "From the manner of your arrival, I am thinking that I know from where you haf come. And yet I was notified of no such visit."

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Please accept our apologies." He waved at Grace and me. "Breaking in new recruits, can't get anything right..." Grace and I both opened our mouths to protest, but Martha shook her head. She was probably right, so we piped down. "...lowest rung of the ladder, haven't even met the boss yet—I suppose you were expecting to hear from the boss if you heard from anyone at all."

The woman gave a disdainful half-nod. "I do not usually deal with underlings."

"And I don't blame you, Mrs. But he—" At this, the Doctor stared hard at her expression, but she gave no indication that he was wrong in his assumption. "—had to delegate this time. Pressures of business and all that. After all, in such a multi-million concern..." He narrowed his eyes and let them roam over the woman's body. "Yes, that coat's well worth 3.7 million, if you ask me. Wouldn't you agree, Garace?"

"It's a bit short," said Grace critically. Martha and I snickered.

"I hear what you're saying." The Doctor maintained a look of unconcerned interest. "But usually a coat is made up from two or three animal skins—large animals, that is—and obviously in this case that just wasn't possible."

The woman nodded. "I did consider combining it with the skin of a zebra," she said. "But the colors, they would haf clashed, and that would haf diluted the effect, no? Diminished it."

"Oh, quite. But as it stands, you're happy with it? Happy with the services you received?"

The woman indicated that Martha, Grace, and I should sit down next to the Doctor, then took a chair herself. "Well, it is hard to say. Of course, in many ways the skin is not all it could be—"

"Where I come from," Martha put in, "zebra print is considered a bit trashy."

The woman looked her up and down, clearly taking in the red leather jacket and silver hoop earrings. "Ah yes, I see that you come from a place most stylish, most... chic," she said with one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised. "But was I was saying, to possess that which no one else possesses—that is what elevates this above mere style. Skin qua skin, it is nothing. But it is so much more. Just to see Lady Horsley's face..." A complacent smile spread across her own face for a moment; then she became businesslike and tossed her hair impatiently. "But surely this is not just a customer satisfaction survey? I take it that you haf news for me? My next order, it is ready?"

"Oh, the Tasmanian Tiger handbag?" said the Doctor, carelessly.

The woman frowned. "The what?"

"Sorry, my mistake," said the Doctor, "confusing you with someone else. Maybe Lady Horsley." She looked both worried and furious at that, but he pretended not to noticed, just carried on speaking in that way he does. "No, actually, this really is more in the line of a customer satisfaction survey. Young Tegan and Garace here, learning the business like I said, essential that they see what goes on... I wonder, would you be so enormously, enormously good as to run though the procedure for them, with your opinions on your treatment at each stage?"

She frowned, but gave a short nod. "You understand, however, that my time is valuable..."

"Oh, quite. Half a million discount for next time, guaranteed."

A smile, as she turned to address us. "You must first understand, girls, that there is nothing more important in this life than that which is unique. A thing which can be had by anyone—what is the value there? One's superiority must be demonstrated exactly. I own the largest sapphire in the world. The only portrait ever painted by the genius Johann Illes is of me. The—"

The Doctor interrupted. "Johann Illes? He disappeared, didn't he?"

A lazy, catlike smile spread across her face, and I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. "Sadly true. And just after rumor had it that he was planning a portrait of Arabella Horsley..."

The Doctor half rose from his seat, then sank back down again. "Ah," he said. After a moment, "Do go on."

She waved a hand. "I am sure the girls have by now grasped the idea. The quest for uniqueness, however, is never ending, and in the matter of couture it is almost impossible. A one-off by a designer who can be bribed? Pah. The hat of takahe feathers, the komodo leather boots, all can be duplicated by those with money and... efficiency to equal mine."

"And with an equal disregard for the law and the sanctity of life," I said, unable to help myself. This woman was driving me mad! The Doctor shot me a look, but I knew he wasn't feeling any differently.

The woman—whose name we did not know and could not ask for without arousing suspicion—acknowledged this a simple fact. "True. But in the circles in which I move—well, that—" She laughed in anticipation of her own joke. "—that is not unique."

I sat on my hands so I wouldn't be tempted to slap the woman.

"And then a rumor reached me, via my furrier—something was being offered, something unheard of. Something that no other person in the world could possibly possess. And, furthermore, the offer was being made only to me." She turned briefly to the Doctor. "Your organization, they do at least understand the necessity of that. I was less pleased, of course, to hear that the offer would be taken elsewhere if I did not respond. Ah well, I suppose that also shows understanding, a brain of business there. For how could I let such an offer get away? The negotiations, they were long and, I cannot deny, tedious. I had to take a great deal on trust, and perhaps that is something that you could look into, although I admit, perhaps, that such must always be the case when one is in such a... delicate situation. And then, of course, there was the handover of goods."

"And the boss himself was dealing with you at this point?" the Doctor asked, as if he already knew the answer.

"But of course," she replied.

"And you were happy with his personal attentions?"

She laughed, puzzled. "The deal was concluded. I had no reason to complain."

"He was polite, attentive, all that?"

She looked quizzical still. "But of course, I never met him. A rumor here, a message there... and then, finally, the... sordid conclusion: a transfer of money and goods in a locked room. This room. I do not know how my money disappeared and the skin arrived, but such they did, and I am content. And now, about my next order..."

"Not our department, I'm afraid." The Doctor's face had sunk, and he jumped from his chair with considerably less enthusiasm than he had possessed earlier. "Well, we won't bother you any further, time is money, money is giant sapphires and one-off paintings and easy access to murderers and all that, come on." We leapt up too, as did the woman. "We'll see ourselves out, the normal way this time, no need to summon a butler or anything—"

The Doctor had reached the door to the room by now, and was twisting the handle, squeezing it tight like he wanted to hurt it. I completely understood.

"Oh, by the way," I tossed carelessly over my shoulder as we left, "did you know that there are twenty-three stuffed quaggas in museums around the world? After all, it's not even been extinct a couple of centuries. One robbery, anyone could have a coat like yours. Lady Horsley, for example. And there's you paying millions for it. Such a pity. Perhaps that's even where yours came from. Hardly unique at all. You know what they say, there's no fool like a one-off fool."

I watched as the quagga-robed woman's expression changed from surprise, to horror, to fury. She seemed to be trying to say something, and I thought it best to get out of there before she managed it.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

_The Doctor was adjusting coordinates on his neck pendant, instructing us to do the same. "Probably not wise to stick around," he said, with which I think we all agreed wholeheartedly._

_"Could that have been true?" Martha said. "What Tegan said, I mean. Could the quagga have come from a museum instead? Been an... already dead one?"_

_He shook his head, a tense, unhappy gesture. "Nope. Not really practical, you know, preservatives and all that." He looked at Tegan with the smallest of smiles on his face. She didn't return it. "But I hope she goes on thinking there are twenty-three others for the rest of her life..." _

"_I like the number twenty-three," Tegan said innocently_

_The wave of nausea that kept threatening me broke across my stomach again. "I'm not going to say anything," I said. "'Cause there's no point in preaching to the choir, but I don't want to meet anyone like that ever again."_

_The Doctor looked at me. "Shame, that," he said. "Because, in case you didn't notice, we didn't exactly pick up a lot of clues there. So we're trying again. Maybe someone will have made a slip. Gotta live in hope. Press your buttons."_

_And bracing myself for what we might find at the next set of coordinates, I did._

_We landed somewhere equally sumptuous as the "unique lady's" place, much to my dismay, except this time we were outdoors. In every other respect, this place was as far removed from the previous location as possible. We were under a canopy in a brilliant, sunny garden, amid tinkling fountains and what seemed like a thousand orchids of every color in the rainbow. A young girl was lying face down on a silk cushion and, as she started up at the sound of our arrival, I saw that her pretty oriental features were stained with tears._

_"Who—who are you?" the girl stammered, although the hesitation seemed to have nothing to do with fear, just her sobs._

_The Doctor stepped forward and spoke gently. "I'm the Doctor, and this—"_

_But he got no further. The girl began to shake her head violently. "You're too late! Too late! He would not have seen you anyway, not a western doctor—not that it matters now."_

_"You mean he's...?" The Doctor was clearly fishing for information._

_"He died twenty minutes ago." She suddenly frowned. "Why are you here? Why did you not go to the house?"_

_"We did," the Doctor lied. "But we couldn't make anyone hear. So we came looking..." He tailed off, hands spread out to indicate the dilemma of a doctor who could not gain access to the place he had been summoned to. The girl seemed to accept this. In a house of mourning, clearly all could not expect to run smoothly._

_The Doctor went over to the girl, and plonked himself down beside her. After some hesitation, I followed. I felt a twinge of guilt—weren't we exploiting this girl's grief? But an investigator couldn't afford such scruples._

_"Did he suffer much?" the Doctor asked, sympathy dripping from his voice. Sympathy that I knew wasn't faked._

_A shiver ran through the girl before she nodded. "Yes," she whispered, eventually. "It was...It was not an easy thing to watch."_

_"But I'm sure you did everything you could to help him."_

_She smiled then, a smile without the faintest trace of warmth or happiness. "I would have dealt with the Devil to save him," she said._

_I took a deep breath. I believed her. Not only that, but I knew one at least one thing that she must've done. _One of the reasons they became extinct in the first place—idiots getting it into their heads that rhino horn could cure all ills_, I remembered._

_Then the cold, inhuman smile vanished, and she was a sobbing child again, tearful and snotty, a ridiculous figure amid the beauty and calm of her surroundings. She thrust a hand into a pocket and rooted blindly for a moment before pulling out a square of cloth to wipe her face, a strangely inelegant gesture._

_And then I jumped. Without quite realizing what I was doing, and definitely without thinking, I cried, "Where did you get that hankie?"_

_The girl swiveled to look at me, regarding me as though I was mad. And who could blame her? This was the first thing I'd said to her, and it was hardly a conventional thing to say to the recently bereaved. Then she glanced down at the handkerchief. So did everyone else. I heard gasps as Martha and Tegan realized what I was thinking._

_This was no delicate square of Chinese silk. This was a great flapping piece of cotton, about a foot square. It was covered with small print dinosaurs._

_The girl looked slightly puzzled herself. "Oh," she said after a second. "I... found it. Someone must have dropped it."_

_"What 'someone'?" said Martha, a little harshly, not that I could blame her. I didn't want to hear the answer either._

_The girl bridled at her tone. "Just... someone." She drew herself up. "I picked it up. Not that it's any business of yours."_

_"Oh, but it is," Martha told her, despite the Doctor's warning hand on her arm. Again, I couldn't blame her. First Quagga Lady, now this. "If you trade with people like that you've got to expect a few awkward questions. You know, about handkerchiefs," she added lamely. "And stuff."_

_"The 'stuff' being slightly more important," the Doctor said, a lot more gently. "So perhaps you would tell us who you got the rhino horn from."_

_The poor girl looked terrified. "He said no one would ever find out!"_

_"And you trusted him? Oh, dear. Oh, dear-dear-dear-dearie me." Now the Doctor was a policeman, shaking his head and tutting. "I think you'd better tell us everything you know about this man."_

_"But I never saw him! Truly, I never saw him, never spoke to him face to face; I know nothing about him at all! I just found the handkerchief after the... delivery."_

_I believed her again, not that it mattered. The evidence clearly pointed the way. I reached out and took the sodden square from the girl, holding it up so there could be no mistake in what we were looking at. All four of us knew exactly where we'd seen an identical hankie, barely hours before. "Tommy," I said sadly._

_The Doctor nodded. "I think it's time we got back to the warehouse."_

_We shimmered back into existence in the exit-free office. The Doctor moved through to the main warehouse before any of us got our heads together, but after a few dizzy moments we set after him. The only person in there was Rix, sitting on an upturned box. There was no sign of his partner._

_"Where's Tommy?" the Doctor demanded._

_Rix ignored the question. "So there you are!" he said. "Sneaking off without a word, we didn't have a clue what was going on!"_

_"Well, we are private investigators," I said. "Key word private, you know? Where's Tommy?"_

_This time he answered. "He's gone back to round up the others. We did what we could here—" He gestured around him, and I tried my best not to look at the corner that I was now sure contained the skinned corpse of the quagga. "—but he though we needed help. Thought that the others should see what happened. I stayed on guard."_

_"And you just let him go!"_

_Rix frowned. "What are you talking about? It's not my business to 'let' him do anything. One, he's my boss, and two, why should I want to stop him?"_

_"Because he's the kidnapping stealing murderer!" I couldn't help but blurt out, although the Doctor's exasperated look said this may not have been the best approach._

_The Earther jumped to his feet, then slowly sat down again. "I don't believe it," he said dazedly, shaking his head. "Not Tommy. You must be wrong. Not Tommy."_

_"Not Tommy what?" said a cheery voice from behind us. We turned around. There was Tommy himself, with the other four Earthers ranged behind him: Vanni and Nadya, Frank and Celia._

_Rix stood up again and stumbled towards his partner, arms outstretched. "Tell me it's not true, Tom, please."_

_"Tell you what's not true?" he asked with what seemed like genuine confusion._

_Rix pointed at me. "She says it's you that's done all this."_

_Tommy suddenly looked as though his knees were giving way beneath him; he stumbled backwards and Nadya grabbed his arm to stop him falling. "Of course I didn't do this," he said hoarsely, his cheeky grin long since vanished._

_Celia had run over to the still-unconscious rhinoceros and was kneeling beside the great beast, paying no attention to the drama going on elsewhere. "Oh, the poor thing," she was saying, stroking its hide. "We collected him, Frank and I. We collected him. Oh, the poor thing. Frank, look."_

_Frank looked half dazed and gave a loud sniff, as if trying to hold back tears. "Yeah, right, the poor thing," he echoed. I looked at Tegan, who was frowning at him._

_Rix and Nadya had taken up positions on either side of Tommy. "I don't believe for a second that Tommy had anything to do with the disappearances," said Nadya. I was feeling more and more sheepish about my accusation. "Tell me what proof you have."_

_Slowly, reluctantly, I drew the dinosaur-print handkerchief from her pocket and held it up. "This was found at the scene of the crime—well, a crime."_

_There was silence. A puzzled silence._

_Then Vanni said, "I don't understand. What does that prove?"_

_Tegan and I both frowned, glancing at the handkerchief, then back at the group in front of us._

_"It's Tommy's," Martha said. "We saw him use an identical one earlier. And you have to admit it's fairly distinctive."_

_But even Tommy himself seemed to have relaxed. "But we all have those!" he cried. "They come from the museum gift shop! Eve gave us all one for Christmas."_

_"Cheapskate that she is," muttered Nadya._

_"And I still have mine!" Tommy continued. "You saw it!" Triumphantly, he pulled the cotton square from his pocket._

_Martha and I visibly relaxed, relieved that Tommy wasn't the criminal. Tegan seemed even tenser, if this was possible. I took hold of her arm. "It's not Tommy!_

_"I know," she said. "But someone else..." She looked at Rix, at Nadya, at Vanni, at Frank, and her eyes lingered there. I started to ask why she was staring at him, but was cut off._

_"Right," said Martha. "Should we ask them all to turn out their pockets? You know, for hankies?"_

_"Oh, I don't think there's any need for that," said the Doctor. "I think it's fairly obvious who's missing one, don't you? Only a person who mislaid their hankie earlier in the day would sniff as much as you, Frank!" He threw out an arm dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at the stocky Earther._

_Who drew a gun out of his pocket._

Ah. That explains Tegan_, I thought._

_"I don't believe it! I was right!" said the Doctor, backing away. "Frank, Frankie, Frankie-boy, you could have at least tried to bluff it out. Tell the truth, it was a bit of a wild guess on my part. The absence of a hankie isn't your actual cast-iron proof at all, more sort of fluffy, marshmallow, knock-it-down-with-a-feather proof."_

_"I never even took my handkerchief out of the wrapping," put in Vanni, helpfully. "Silly cheap thing."_

_"Shut up!" shouted Frank, waving the gun first this way, then that. "Look, I didn't want anyone to get hurt." _

_"Except the animals!" cried Martha, regretting it, I'm sure, as the gun veered towards her._

_Frank shrugged. "Yeah, right, animals. All I ever hear about is animals, animals, animals. What about people, huh? You can do a lot of good with a few million, but what's the use of a stupid zebra in a cage? No bloomin' use at all, that's what."_

_"So you were planning to use your ill-gotten gains to do good for humanity?" asked the Doctor, interestedly._

_"Duh, yeah right. I was planning to spend on myself, of course," Frank admitted. "Just making a point. And, bit of a cliché and all that, but now you know too much and I'm gonna have to silence you." He raised the gun. It was now aimed straight at the Doctor. I tensed up and decided no matter what, I wouldn't let this... erm, illegitimate child, kill the Doctor._

_He gotten out of these situations before, but usually because someone else took the bullet. I would if I had to. No. Matter. What._

_"Ah," said the Doctor. "Mind you, talking about making a point..." His focus had shifted from Frank to something behind him._

_Frank's finger tightened on the trigger._

_And the shot blasted into the ceiling, as he went flying backwards over the charging rhino's nose._

_Nadya grabbed the gun. Rix and Tommy grabbed the dazed Frank, Tommy yanking off his pendant to prevent any escape attempts. Celia, one hand on her own pendant, was running after the rhinoceros; a second later, girl and beast both vanished. I realized I'd been holding my breath, and tried to take a deep one, and choked on it. I was shaking. Would I really have done what I'd thought to do? Fiddling on Sunday was one thing; the Labyrinth for Tegan was another. But this was something else again, and would I have died for the Doctor?_

_In a heartbeat._

_The Doctor stood there with a big grin on his face, as a trickle of falling plaster dust began to sprinkle his hair, completely unaware of what had taken place in my mind. Quite right, too. The worst thing you can do for the Doctor, in his mind, is die for him._

_"'Making a point'?" said Martha critically, jolting me out of my reverie._

_"Good, wasn't it?" The Doctor was still grinning._

_"But it doesn't work."_

_"Doesn't work?"_

_"The pun doesn't work! You saw that the rhino was getting up, and you were making a pun about it butting Frank with its horn. Except it doesn't have a horn anymore."_

"_So it doesn't," said the Doctor. "That was a bit _point_less, then."_

_In unison, Martha, Tegan, and I groaned and facepalmed._

_When we all zapped back to the museum, the first thing I saw was another empty cage, about the right size for a gorilla or something, and I panicked that we'd been too late to save some other poor creature—but Tommy said it was a box that hadn't been filled yet; obviously some new arrival was expected. By the time we turned up, the rhino was already back in its place, and I could help but think that it deserved a better reward for saving all our lives than being frozen for all eternity. _

_Celia was sitting on the floor outside the rhino's box with her elbows on her knees. She didn't seem anywhere near as stuck up now as my first impression of her; I guess finding out your partner's a loony puts your behavior in perspective._

_"We collected it together, Frank and I," she said. "It was in a wildlife preserve in Kenya, and we arrived just in time to stop a poacher from shooting it."_

_"What was a poacher doing in a wildlife preserve?" I asked, shocked._

_She laughed humorlessly. "Preserves are like sweet shops to poachers. Everything gathered together in one place for them." Her eyes glazed over and I guess she was back in time. "He nearly shot me too. I was so angry, I went for him instead of attending to the rhinoceros. If Frank hadn't knocked his gun aside..."_

_It looked like she was about to cry. I hastily suggested a cup of tea, and she nodded gratefully, at which point I realized I had no idea how to procure such a thing._

_"Let's go to the cafeteria," said Vanni, and I smiled at her gratefully._

_I wondered if the Doctor would come along too, but he shook his head. "You lot go," he said. "I'll go along with the others, see Eve, sort this out. See you in a bit." _

_So Frank was led off, a little procession, and then Tegan, Martha, and I followed Vanni and Celia in the other direction._

* * *

__Last update before the holidays, so let me say on behalf of Zoe and myself, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. And if you don't celebrate Christmas, that still entitles you to an enjoyable December 25th. And also, Happy Whatever-It-Is-You-Celebrate, even if you only celebrate life. Cheers! :)


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: After taking a long holiday, we're finally back!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

The cafeteria wasn't manned, instead being full of vending machines; I guess that's why it was still open at this time of night. Vanni got us three cups of tea and three doughnuts. There was something pretty reassuring about finding out they still have doughnuts in the future. Mine had Yorkshire Cream in the middle.

I won't go into what was said, all the recriminations and disbelief interspersed with a bit of weeping here and there. The kind of thing you'd get when someone's just broken up with their boyfriend, only worse. I'm sure you can imagine. I completely understood her feelings—it's not easy to find out that somebody you've grown to trust is really a douche. But still, it got wearing after a bit, and Grace and I found ourselves talking to each other. Discussing films, food, and guys like we hadn't done in ages. There were even moments when Martha would join the conversation. It was nice, just three Earth girls having a laugh. And of course, the conversation eventually turned to the Doctor.

"How long has he been gone?" Grace asked after a while.

"Oh, he's probably bargaining for the freedom of animals from Gallifrey or something," said Martha, downing what was left of her tea.

"With what? It's not like he carries money," I laughed.

"Who knows what he's got in those pockets of his?" Martha said

"Can't be that, I don't remember seeing a sign for Gallifrey," said Grace, frowning.

"Nor do I, come to think of it."

Grace and Martha continued to speculate, but I couldn't hear anything they said. All I could hear was blood pumping in my ears.

"Oh no..." I whimpered loudly, fumbling around for my pendant. "Ground Control to Major Tom," I said aloud into the communicator. "Doctor, can you hear me?"

Grace pulled on my arm. "What? What?" I tried to shake her off.

"Tegan? What's wrong? What's happened?" I'd never been so happy to hear his voice. Well, not since the last time I felt like the world was ending without him.

"Is Eve with you?"

"Yeah."

"Whaaat?" Grace hissed.

"Ask her to leave." I lowered my voice, meaning Eve more than Grace.

"What?" the Doctor and Grace said simultaneously.

"Please!" I whispered urgently. "I'll explain in a mo, but not while she's there."

There were a few moments of silence, presumably because the Doctor had let go of his pendant in order to give Eve a brilliant reason to excuse herself.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, more forcefully this time.

"Listen to me, you've got to get out of there. Right now!"

The Doctor groaned softly. "Just talk to me! What's going on?"

I groaned in response. "You are so thick sometimes! Think! We are in The Museum of the Last Ones! Did _you_ see a sign for Gallifrey?"

Suddenly Grace's frantic mutterings and arm-yankings stopped dead. Now it was Martha's turn to ask, "What?"

I realized that it was silent on the Doctor's end, and for a split second, I could almost see the horrified expression on his face.

"Look, you don't have much time. Eve's already thinking how best to overpower you. Doctor, please!"

A few, agonizingly long seconds later, the Doctor finally responded. "I'm coming."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you."

I'm not sure why I said that, but I guess it was because I needed so much for him not to be imprisoned. I just couldn't bear the thought of the Doctor in a cage.

I let go of the pendant, took a deep breath, and began beating myself on the head, chanting, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"Oh, knock it off!" said Grace.

"But I knew!" I lowered my voice so Martha wouldn't hear. "I read this book, like you read Wetworld, like you predicted I'd get the chance, and I recognized different parts! I knew from the very instant that we saw the signs that she was gonna go after him, and I. Didn't. Say. Anything."

"And then you did, and you saved him!" Grace rolled her eyes, but her foot was tapping nervously.

"Maybe, but I don't trust Eve as far as I could throw her. I'm not going to relax until we're all safe in the TARDIS."

Grace paused. "Could you throw her?"

I blinked. "That's the point, isn't it, Grace?"

I'm not sure how long we waited, but to me it seemed an eternity of scanning the corridors hopefully and Grace reminding me to breathe.

Finally, I gasped for breath in what Grace knew to be a relieved way as the Doctor rounded the corner, his brown coat billowing behind him.

I had relaxed until I saw Eve hot on his heels.

"Run!" he mouthed needlessly at us, and we took off. None of us needed to ask where we were going.

I've always criticized people in films for turning around and looking at what's chasing them, but I found myself turning to look at Eve.

Her face was contorted, not in rage, but in a determined, manic desperation to possess. I knew she wouldn't hesitate to kill us to get to him.

I can still hear her cry of fury and defeat as the TARDIS dematerialized.

,.,.,.

"You know Doctor, sometimes I think you're more trouble than you're worth," I said once we'd all caught our breath.

The Doctor snickered. "Says the person who had us running around a Labyrinth for fourteen hours."

"I was abducted!" I whined in response "Graaace, tell him!"

And she did, sort of. "At least Jareth gave you a banana. I went hungry all that time."

"Well," Martha announced, "I got a nice trip, overall, but now I'm going to bed."

"Yeah, just like a human," the Doctor teased as she left the console room.

Grace yawned broadly and muttered her excuses and something unflattering about Time Lords. I made to follow her, but the Doctor addressed me.

"Tegan, Tegan, Tegan... First I save you from a fate worse than death, then you return the favor."

I chuckled. "Don't expect it every time, though."

Cue the awkward silence.

"So," he said after a moment. "David Bowie fan, eh?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Yeah. 'Bout a year, now. 'Space Oddity,' favorite song."

"Right, that's probably why you were so susceptible to Jareth's hallucinogenic music."

"…What are you talking about?"

"Never mind."

"Well… goodnight, then."

I took a few steps out of the room, and then changed my mind. I whirled around and grabbed the Doctor in as tight a hug as I could muster.

Just then, Grace, probably wondering where I'd got to, came in and saw me hugging the Doctor. "GROUP HUG!" she screamed—she even screamed the punctuation/capitalization—flinging her arms around us. Martha, having heard the call of the Glomping-Bird, returned a moment later.

Grace shouted something to Martha, but her voice muffled by the Doctor's jacket sounded like, "Marfammmug!" The Doctor flapped a hand to invite her.

It was all very satisfying.

,.,.,.

On the way to our rooms, really this time, Grace eyed me expectantly over the rims of her glasses. "So he didn't ask you how you knew about Eve or Gallifrey or anything?"

My eyes widened. "Suprisingly, no. But he's right, people don't question things."

She smiled. "They just go, 'Oooh, look. It's a thing.' If we wrote our autobiographies, that's what I'd call mine. Just to see who understood the _thing_."

"Would you put the Doctor in your autobiography?"

"Oh, yes. A little like this: 'When I was fifteen, I hugged the Doctor. _The_ Doctor. Three times!'"

"Oh, rub it in. Wait a minute, three?"

"Companion initiation, in the Labyrinth, and just now in the group session. You?"

"Two times. You ruined my companion moment, though."

She jerked. "Oh! That was—oh! Congrats, Tegs!"

I was at a loss. "Well, this is your stop. Goodnight."

"Waitwaitwait, Tegan—" She pulled me back into her doorway.

"Honestly, with my arm again—" I started.

"What would have happened if we hadn't gotten him out of there in time?" She sounded afraid.

"Lotta stuff. The Doctor would've been fine, of course; Martha would've eventually figured it out and rescued him from the cage."

"So, why did we feel the need to intrude on Time and space? Again?"

"Well…Eve would've gone on a rampage, eventually deemed us unnecessary, and killed us."

"Oh." She paused. "Avert the whole disaster rather than steal a character's part. Good form."

_Before Tegan closes this chapter, I'd like to tell you how, as I said this, a sense of shame washed over me.I had this Book of Revelations experience, because I always bounce back from tough experiences, and Tegan's a little more insecure. But while I had stolen flashy parts that would get me attention, serious Tegan had quietly worked her way into the Doctor's affection by being smart and handling herself like a real companion._

_I was going to continue with something long and sentimental about my best friend, but since you've been reading this and you know all about her, it seems pointless. So there it is. My shout-out to Tegan. You go, girl!_

I did go. To bed.

"And on that happy note, I'm going to bed."

I was almost out the door when Grace said, "Goodnight; sleep tight; don't let Saxon bite."

"Yeah, yeah."

That had been our mantra from day one, a way of reminding ourselves that it was coming.

"Don't let Saxon bite."

"Remember the Valiant!"

"Don't vote Saxon."

And so on.

But it didn't happen… and it didn't happen… and it didn't happen… and words that once kept us alert and prepared became just that. Words.

That night after MOTLO was the last time either of us said it. Before it happened, that is. Afterwards, we never, ever forgot it.

* * *

A/N: Oooh, ominous! Unfortunately, as the "Master Trilogy", as we've taken to calling it, is rather stressful and long, we still need a little bit longer to work on it. Think of it as us giving you more time to work on submissions for the contest! Please forgive us for taking so long, but we promise, the end result will be worth it. Thank you so much for sticking with us this far!


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-three

A/N: We have returned! And we're here with an extra-long chapter for your amusement and bemusement! A few notes to start, our contest is officially closed, and the winner is, by unanimous vote, My Beautiful Ending! Congratulations, you don't win money! You win a cameo in The Sound of Drums. Honorable mention to Notary Sojac's fanfic "Monopoly" about the misfortunes that befall the TARDIS crew when they try to play a board game. Go read it. Read it now. Well, not now, read this now. But then, go read it.

Also, due to college applications, ACTs, weddings, and life in general, we're cutting down to bi-weekly updates, so as to buy us time for the other two installments of The Master Trilogy. We ARE updating, just not as frequently, so please don't worry. This story will not be abandoned.  
Anyway, on to due business.

This chapter no longer based on _The Last Dodo, _which we slaughtered. Even before Tegan averted more than half the book, we removed tiny elements pointing to a great element so that Earth didn't explode after we left. Apologies to Jacqueline Rayner—go read the original. After you've read this and "Monopoly".

In this chapter, we also introduce theme songs for our characters that seem to fit us well. Please look them up on YouTube if you don't already know them!

**Aloysia is from:  
**_www__ . fanfiction . net/s/7631787/1/But_Worth_It __/_

* * *

_Ladies and gents:_

_I'm sure you've all been waiting for the Master since the first chapter, considering our story's title, and I do apologize that we took the scenic route through the Whoniverse. Before, however, we get into the dramatic stuff, you may like to read a few scattered incidents we had between. (If not, skip to the end of this chapter.)_

_We could tell you how we tried to redecorate and the TARDIS retaliated by hiding the bathroom. In hindsight, hearing the Doctor bellow "PUT IT BACK!" is funny, but it wasn't then. Have you ever had to use the tenth century's idea of a toilet? _

It ain't pretty.

_Actually, I think that is quite enough information. _

_We had the best of times, too. Such as meeting green-haired, purple-eyed Aloysia, whom I called "Tonks" and the Doctor called "Allons-y, Aloysia!" Or how we could have made a sing-along tape of "There's a Vortex in the Middle of the Universe." Martha suggested recording with Elvis, but somehow it never happened._

_It started when I ran up to Tegan in her bedroom and said in one word: "Tegantegantegan!" I slung my arm around her shoulder. "Let me sing you something. _There's a vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's a vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's a vortex, there's a vortex, there's a vortex in the middle of the universe."

_Tegan stared at me as if I was a baboon wearing a ball gown and pushed my head away from hers._

_I rolled my eyes and continued. "_There's a TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's a TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's a TARDIS, there's a TARDIS, there's a TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe."

_Tegan's face lit up as I enlightened her, and she sang along to the tune of "There's a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea."_

"There's a Doctor in the TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's a Doctor in the TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's a Doctor, there's a Doctor, there's a Doctor in the TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe.

There's us with the Doctor in the TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's us with the Doctor in the TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe,

There's us, there's us, there's us with the Doctor in the TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe!"

_"Huzzah to us!" Tegan cheered. _

_The Doctor poked his head around the corner. "What are you doing?"_

_We looked at each other. "We're singing. A song. About a vortex in the middle of the universe."_

_Long sigh. "Uh—well—the vortex isn't actually _in_ the middle of the universe. It's outside… maybe sort of around the confines of time and space... and we being inside the TARDIS inside the vortex are sort of outside—"_

_Tegan just wailed, "OH MY GOODNESS, stop talking!"_

_"Catch you singing those lyrics!" I added. After that, whenever we came into a room and he went quiet, we knew what he'd been doing._

_About an hour later I came back to loiter in Tegan's bedroom doorway once more. "Now that we're official companions, we should get theme songs, and not just us with the Doctor in the TARDIS in the vortex in the middle of the universe. I've thought about mine, and I call 'Clockwork TARDIS.'"_

"'_Martha's Theme'!" Tegan said immediately._

_I pouted. "You can't take another companion's."_

"_Says who?"_

"_I made the game, didn't I? I say it's not fair to the real—strike that. Not fair to the _other_ companions to steal their themes. And you can't have the show's or the Doctor's because they're signature."_

"'_Monster Bossa,' then." _

"_Nice!" We high-fived. _

"_But I have to ask…" Tegan looked puzzled. "What's _wrong_ with 'The Vortex in the Middle of the Universe'?"_

"_Oh, I heard the Doctor singing that the other day," said Martha's voice behind us._

_I jumped with an "Ah!" which you might think I'd have gotten over after the Labyrinth, but no dice. _

"_Only," she continued with half a smile, "he had some daft lyrics about the vortex 'outside maybe sort of around the confines of time and space.' "_

"_He would," Tegan and I responded in tandem._

"_Well… What do you two want to do?" Martha asked. I thought she looked a little damp in the spirit. "What were you doing before I came?"_

"_We… uh…" I looked at Tegan and shrugged._

"_Have you ever wanted theme music?" Tegan said, a decent save. "You see, composing sort of runs in my family, and I was thinking this for you…" She started singing Melanie Pappenheim's part in "Martha's Theme," which she'd so recently tried to claim. All due apologies to the wonderful Murray Gold for pretending the music was ours._

_Martha's half smile came back. "I like it. A lot, actually. And… I came to apologize. If I've seemed a little cold to you."_

_To be honest, I hadn't noticed, but Tegan nodded slightly._

"_I just didn't think it was fair," she sighed. "You don't know how long it took me to be a real traveler with him…"_

_Of course we knew who "him" was (and that's not grammatical but it's true). And we also knew approximately how long, because Martha hadn't gotten a TARDIS key till six episodes into her series._

"…_but I _was _put out that you two came along, did one heroic thing each, and that was it. You're in." Then she smiled, not half but whole. "But it's not your fault. Far from it. And it's not the Doctor's either, just he's been lying to himself with the whole 'one trip' bit. I think… at some point, he just assumes he's made it official and forgets to tell us, the people who want to know."_

"_That's exactly right, you know," I said, but the TARDIS breathed her hoarse VWORP right over me. The three of us grinned at each other and dashed for the console room._

"_Cardiff!" announced the Doctor as we burst in._

"_Cardiff?" Martha repeated, nudging us as if to say, "You're in twenty-first-century UK at last."_

"_Cardiff?" we echoed ominously as it finally came home to us. But since Tegan called it even that first day, I'll stop hogging the keyboard and let her tell you the next part._

The TARDIS had materialized in Cardiff in front of the water tower in Roald Dahl Plass.

"Nothing to worry about. The thing about Cardiff," the Doctor went on, "is that it's built on a rift in time and space-just like California and the San Andreas Fault. The rift _bleeds_ energy. Every now and then I need to open up the engines, soak up the energy and use it as fuel."

"So it's a pit stop," Martha said.

"Exactly."

"Wait a minute," Martha started. "They had an earthquake in Cardiff a couple years ago. Was that you?"

"Bit of trouble with the Slitheen," the Doctor admitted. "Long time ago. Lifetimes. I was a different man back then."

"_I had a beautiful accent, big ears, a special nose, Rose and Mickey and…" oh, no,_ I thought.

"Finito," said the Doctor. "All powered up."

In a blatant fit of psychic… um, ness, I cried, "Doctor, wait! Somebody's coming."

He looked at me strangely. "You always seemed more like Gus than Shawn Spencer, Tegan."

"Yes!" Grace held out her fist to me.

I would've complained that I'm Shawn, I've always been Shawn, everybody _knows _I'm Shawn!

_Grace interrupts: Even though I'm the insensitive one who blurts out everything she sees and gives away many more spoilers_

Shut up.

Anyway, there wasn't time. The Doctor was already looking down at the monitor and observing Jack running across the Plass. Panic flashed through his eyes and he pulled hurriedly on a lever. The console sparked and we were all thrown to the floor.

Martha grabbed the console and sat up. "What's that?"

The Doctor jumped nearly onto the console, pushed buttons, and watched the monitor. "We're accelerating into the future. The year one billion. Five billion." His voice rose every time with disbelief. "Five trillion. Fifty trillion. What? The year one hundred trillion? That's impossible!"

"Why? What happens then?" Martha asked.

I gulped. _You don't want to know, Martha, _I thought.

The Doctor looked up. "We're going to the end of the universe."

**OPENING CREDITS  
**David Tennant  
Freema Agyeman  
Zoe Alice Latimer  
Sara Eleanor Rose  
AND  
John Barrowman  
**(We just had to for our first proper episode)**

**UTOPIA**  
by Russell T Davies  
Zoe Alice Latimer  
Sara Eleanor Rose  
**(Had to do that, too—automatic disclaimer)**

The TARDIS arrived with a thud. The Doctor looked at Martha. Martha looked at the Doctor. Grace and I looked at each other, as if to say, "What do we do now?"

"Well, we've landed," said the Doctor quietly.

"We can tell," said Grace in a similar tone.

"So, what's out there?" asked Martha.

"I don't know," said the Doctor, not surprisingly. Well, to us. Martha was surprised.

"Say that again, that's rare," she said with a nervous chuckle.

"Not even the Time Lords came this far. We should leave. We should go, we should really, really… go."

I whole-heartedly agreed, but decided against saying so. I didn't like to think about what would happen if Jack never made it back to Cardiff. I could figure out something once everything was straightened out with him.

The Doctor, right on cue, grinned ecstatically at us and took off at a run for the door, Martha hot on his heels. We hung back in the TARDIS.

"Utopia," Grace said.

"Yep," I responded.

Silence. Outside, Jack was reviving. There was a muffled shout as Martha had the fright of her medical career.

"Well, we've got time to kill," I said.

"Why can't we just go out? I mean, it's not as though they're all gonna come back into the TARDIS when they realize we're not out there."

My heart lifted. "Actually, that's a really good idea. We could try it!"

She smiled wryly. "It's definitely safer in here."

I flashed back to a conversation with Jareth. "You're safer with me," he'd said.

I shook my head lightly, to rid myself of the almost-regret that I was here now. _Darn you, Goblin King!_

The pauses between our words must have lasted minutes, because those outside finished talking about Rose, and the Doctor stuck his head in. "Oi, you two coming or not?"

I looked at Grace. "Once more, unto the breach."

She winked at me as we headed out."Hey Tegan, watch this."

"This is Garace like Galinda—" the Doctor tried to say.

She sidled up to Jack, flipping her hair like her Wicked namesake. She held her hand out daintily. "Garace Anscombe," she simpered, "and who might you be?"

I was on my knees, convulsing with laughter. "Gr…Grace!"

"I just wanted to beat him to it."

Jack looked questioningly at the Doctor, and had to search around for him. Eventually, he looked down, and saw the Doctor on the ground with me, laughing.

Martha answered for him, "They're sort of psychic. We've decided to find it charming."

I stood up, trying to catch my breath and help the Doctor up at the same time. "A bajillion Doctor-points for you, Grace!" I said.

Jack turned to me. "And hel_lo."_

_Oh, dear heaven… _I thought. _Oh wait, I know who to appeal to. _

I smirked slightly. "Oh, what the Goblin King would do to you."

Once again, Jack looked at the Doctor, who shook his head.

"I have friends in the Underground," I continued.

"…With the emotional range of a teaspoon and the morals of a sewer rat," added Grace.

"Well, yeah."

Jack deflated. This was clearly not going as planned. "Wait, are you two American?"

Grace and I looked at each other and blinked. "Oh. _Oh! _Right! Yeah! Sorry, it's easy to forget. Accents, like Time, are relative in the TARDIS."

Jack chuckled. "Heh, you're telling me."

"Well, this has been brill, but perhaps we should head back into the TARDIS, drop Hawkeye Pierce here back in Cardiff, and move on with our lives." I grinned hopefully at the Doctor, who was looking at me as if he didn't know who I was. Grace was giving me a similar, "What are you doing?" sort of expression.

"Tegan," the Doctor said slowly, "we are at the _end_ of the _universe._ Doesn't that deserve a tour?"

I stared hard at him, willing him to see, to understand that _we can't stay here_, but I inevitably gave in. "Oh, who could resist those big Doctor eyes?"

Jack's, Martha's, and Grace's hands went up. The Doctor turned those pleading eyes on them, and gradually the hands went back down. "Oh, fine," said Grace reluctantly.

"Just a walk, you won't be sorry," the Doctor said, clapping me on the shoulder, glad that was settled. "After all, this is practically what you came for!"

_You have no idea how right you are, _I thought sadly. _And how wrong. _

,.,.,.,.,.,

_Tegan and I walked between the Doctor (in front) and Jack and Martha (behind)._

"_So there I was, stranded in the year 200,100, ankle-deep in Dalek dust, and he goes off without me!"_

"_How kind of you to entertain us with stories of your misfortunes," I said drily. Tegan isn't the only Austen fan amongst us._

_Jack looked at me and held up his vortex manipulator and said, "Oh, but I had _this. _I used to be a Time Agent. It's called a vortex manipulator." _

No way, _I thought. _

"_He's not the only one who can time travel." Jack waved at the Doctor oh-so-proudly._

_The Doctor whirled, incredulous, and started walking backwards. "Oh, excuse me. _That_ is not time travel. It's like I've got a sports car—and you've got a space hopper!"_

_It took a lot of self-control not to mouth that line and say, "Is it? I hadn't noticed!"_

"_Oh-ho, boys and their toys," Martha teased._

"_All right, so I bounce. I thought '21st century, best place to find the Doctor' except that I got it a little wrong. I arrived in 1869 and this thing burnt out so it was useless."  
_

_"Told you," the Doctor interjected.  
_

_"I had to live through the entire 20th century waiting for a version of you that would coincide with me."  
_

_"That makes you more than one hundred years old," Martha said in some disbelief.  
_

_"And looking good, doncha think? So I went to the time rift, based myself there 'cause I knew you'd come back to refuel. Until finally I get a signal on this—" He pulled up his backpack. "—detecting you, and here we are."  
_

_A plug and outlet in my brain connected about two versions of Jack in the same year. So of course, it came out my mouth. "You would've been there the first time heeeee…" Uh-oh, I thought.  
_

_Tegan jumped in. "Erm, the Doctor! Uh, mentioned being in Cardiff a couple years ago… with an earthquake and, uh, rift… stuff. Do you, uh, remember that?"  
_

_These excuses are getting old, I thought, relieved nonetheless.  
_

_The Doctor looked cross again. "You know, Jack, you could have crossed your own timeline and caused serious damage!"  
_

_"But the thing is," Martha interrupted, not too concerned about timelines, "how come you left him behind, Doctor?"  
_

_The Doctor turned forward again. "I was busy."  
_

_"Is that what happens, though? Seriously? Do you just get bored with us one day and disappear?"  
_

Basically_, I thought, _yes_.  
_

_"Not if you're blonde," Jack murmured.  
_

_"Oh, she was blonde? What a surprise!" Martha snapped back. I'm sure Rose felt someone walk over her grave just then.  
_

_"You two!" the Doctor cried, disbelief and disappointment etched in his features. "We're at the end of the universe. All right? We're at the edge of knowledge itself and you're busy…blogging!"  
_

_Jack and Martha looked ashamed of themselves. I awkwardly popped my lips a couple of times.  
_

_The Doctor sighed. "Come on."  
_

_"Well, we've been walking for about five minutes, I think, so maybe we should… turn back," Tegan said nonchalantly. I wondered if she was serious. I mean, fixed events and all that. We hadn't come to stop it, just to be with the Doctor.  
_

_The Doctor hadn't been paying attention, due to the edge of the canyon and the carved buildings nested within. "Yeah, just a minute, after we look at this…"  
_

_"Is that a city?" Martha asked, coming alongside him.  
_

_"A city or a hive. Or a nest. Or—" His eyes lit up. "—a conglomeration. Looks like it was grown. But look there." He pointed down. "That's like pathways, roads… Must have been some sort of life." He paused. "Long ago."  
_

_"What killed it?" Martha asked softly.  
_

_"Time. Just time. Everything's dying now. All the great civilizations have gone." He sniffed and sat back, looking up into the darkness. "This isn't just night. All the stars have burned up and faded away into nothing."  
_

_"It must have an atmospheric shell," Jack said. "We should be frozen to death."  
_

_"Well, the girls and I, maybe," the Doctor said knowingly. "Not so sure about you, Jack."  
_

_"What about the people?" Martha asked insistently. "Does no one survive?"  
_

_"I suppose we have to hope. Life will find a way."  
_

_"Well, he's not doin' too bad." Jack pointed down to the figure of Padrafet Shafekane running for his life down the pathways. Then the Futurekind rounded the corner.  
_

_The Doctor jumped up. "Is it me, or does that look like a hunt? Come on!"  
_

_We took off until a big voice from a small figure cried, "OR!"  
_

_We all screeched to a stop and looked at Tegan. She seemed desperate. "We could go back inside the nice, safe TARDIS and go somewhere, anywhere else."  
_

_The Doctor stared at her as if she'd just kicked his puppy. And we ran.  
_

* * *

_A/N: "The emotional range of a teaspoon and the morals of a sewer rat." We credit this description of Jareth to Pika-la-Cynique on deviantart once again, who borrowed from J.K. Rowling._


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-four

I lagged behind the others, trying desperately to think of something, _anything_ that I could say to convince them to leave. Maybe once we got Padra into the silo…

Jack said something I couldn't quite hear, but I knew what it was. "Oh, I've missed this!"

Once we reached Padra, Jack grabbed him. "I've got you!"

"We've got to run, they're coming!" Padra shouted frantically.

We all looked back to see the Futurekind bearing down on us like a freight train. Let me tell you, it's freaking _scary _when they're all bearing down on you like a freight train. I couldn't blame Jack for pulling out his gun and pointing it at the Futurekind.

"Jack, don't you dare!" shouted the Doctor. Jack gave an exasperated groan and fired into the air. The Futurekind stopped and cocked their heads, studying us.

"What are they?" asked Martha.

"There's more of them. We've got to keep moving."

"I've got a ship nearby. It's safe. It's not far, it's just over—"

"No, it isn't!" I said, pulling on the Doctor's arm. "Let's just get him safe, yeah?"

"We're close to the silo. If we get to the silo, then we're safe," said Padra, nodding at me.

"Silo?" asked the Doctor.

"Do you even have to ask?" said Grace.

We arrived at a gated area with watchtowers and guards.

"It's the Futurekind! Open the gate!" shouted Padra at the main guard.

"Show me your teeth!" the guard yelled. He yelled it twice more before Padra said, "Show them your teeth!" and gritted his. The Doctor, Martha, Jack, Grace, and I all gave wide, desperate smiles.

"For the first time," Grace managed to say through hers, "I'm thankful for my overbite."

"Ditto!" I said with a hiss of relief as the guard pronounced us human and the gate rattled open.

_Great, _I thought. _Just get him inside, wait until the Futurekind leave, and we can get the heck out of here!_

"Close! Close! Close!" shouted the guard, as if the more times he said it, the faster it would go. The Futurekind seemed prepared to break down the gate, but the guard fired his gun at the ground in front of them. The chief paced back and forth in front of us, baring piranha-like teeth and looking at us hungrily.

"Humans," he grunted. "Humani. Make feast."

"Go back to where you came from," said the guard steadily. I was all set to do just that, but the Futurekind didn't move.

"I said go back! Go back!" The guard aimed his gun directly at the chief.

"Oh, don't tell him to put down his gun," remarked Jack to the Doctor.

"He's not my responsibility."

"And I am?" he scoffed. "That makes a change."

"Kind watch you," the chief said in a slightly sing-song voice, drawing our attention back. "Kind hungry."

"Oo-kay, time to go," said Grace.

The chief signaled to the others and they backed away.

"Thanks for that," said the Doctor to the guard, who turned.

"Right. Let's get you inside," he said.

"My name is Padrafet Shafekane," Padra broke in. "Please tell me, can you take me to Utopia?"

The guard smiled. "Oh yes, sir. Yes, I can." With that, he led us into a large tunnel carved into a mountain, and all I could think was how much I didn't want to be trapped in the silo.

The guards passed us off to a lieutenant named Atillo and went outside to do whatever it is guards do.

_Grace again: Guard?_

Perhaps.

Atillo looked us over as if assessing our potential as enemies. "All right, so who are you then?"

"Hello, I'm the Doctor, and this is—" started the Doctor, but Grace jumped in front of him, all jazz hands. "Grace!" she sounded off. I still don't know why she was in such a good mood.

To my surprise and irritation, Jack joined her, equally enthusiastic. "Captain Jack!"

"Martha Jones," Martha said with more dignity.

"Tegan," I said quietly and reluctantly.

Padra gave us an odd look. "Padrafet Shafekane. I'm looking for my family."

Atillo seemed to go deaf to us from the sound of how awesome the Doctor is. "I'm sorry, did you say Doctor?"

"I believe so," said the Doctor. "Why, what did you hear?"

Atillo pulled out a contraption with the same function as a walky-talky (hey, this is the end of the universe, how're we supposed to know what it actually was?). "Professor!" he said into it. "We've got six new humans inside. One of them is calling himself a doctor." He paused and covered the surface to ask the Doctor, "Doctor of what?"

"Of everything."

"He says of everything."

I couldn't hear Yana, but I knew what he was saying. He was fanboying over the Doctor without having met him. In a moment, he would insist on meeting him, and us by default.

I started to panic. _I can't let this happen, this _cannot _happen!_

But I realized in horror that we couldn't leave without the TARDIS. Which meant we couldn't leave.

,.,.,.,.,

_You all know how this goes. We angst over the TARDIS, meet adorable Scottish Creet, sigh as Jack flirts with a man, see the rocket, and here's Yana in three, two, okay let's go. I knew how all this went too, and I almost squeed over many things I'd only seen on sets, until Yana showed up. How do you compute Yana, knowing he's the Master? Yana practically brought us milk and cookies when he came running up._

_He looked between the Doctor and Jack and eventually decided that Jack was the Doctor. All I could think was, _You don't want to let him doctor you. _I didn't say it aloud because I knew Tegan wouldn't appreciate it._

_"That's me," said the Doctor._

_Yana's face lit up. He took the Doctor's hand and started to lead him away. "Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good."_

_For one bizarre moment I felt like Yana would take my Doctor away forever and I would never see him again. But he looked right at us over his shoulder to say, "It's good apparently." There's something comforting about the experience that no matter what paradoxes you cause, you can't change the Doctor's lines._

_We hurried after Yana. I saw Tegan's head instinctively turn to the wall, and I remembered a close-up of pointed teeth. I pulled an ostrich (you know, they bury their heads in the sand so no one can see them?) and looked the other way, but Tegan leaned over to me and muttered, "Should we, uh, tell somebody about the Futurekind lady?"_

_I frowned. "I don't think the Futurekind did anything serious anyway. They didn't manage to bring down the rocket or eat the Doctor and... us, so pointless red herring seems kind of pointless."_

_Even as I said this, it sounded a little fishy. I mean, RTD isn't known for his small things being pointless. Then again, I remembered that Jackie didn't end up doing anything in "Journey's End." _

Tegan the Irony Detector here, to tell you all, ladies and germs, that if we _had _mentioned the Futurekind lady, she never would have sabotaged the radiation chamber, which means Jack would've been able to maintain the levels, which means he never would've had to go in there, and he and the Doctor never would've had that nice little conversation about regeneration. Live and learn, I guess.

_Chantho welcomed us at the door. As Yana dragged off the Doctor, we stayed behind (since we certainly knew nothing about endtime gravity)._

_"Hello, I'm Martha-" I saw her eyes flick over me as she hurried on, "and this is Tegan and Grace. Who are you?"_

_Not a fan of creative sound offs, then. Fine. When we make Doctor Who Puppet Pals: Mysterious Ticking Noise, you don't get to be in it. _

_"Chan—Chantho—tho."_

_"But we can't get it to harmonize!" Yana said in the distance._

_"Have you tried auto-tune?" I called.  
_

_"Grace!" said Tegan, appalled. "We do not use curse words on D—here!"_

_I smirked. "Smooth."_

_"Ohshutup."_

_"Captain Jack Harkness."_

_"Stop it."_

_Jack pouted. "Can't I say hello to anyone?"_

_"No," said Tegan._

_"No," said I._

_"Chan—I do not protest—tho."_

_"They never do," Tegan mumbled, rolling her eyes._

_"Maybe later, Blue." Jack winked, dropping his pack. "So, what have we got here?" _

_As they pulled out their handy-dandy... NOTEBOOKS! (please tell me someone understood that?), Martha gave Jack's bag a curious look. We scooped it up and went for the sitting room, where Martha started turning it over like a child on Christmas Eve._

_"I wonder what's making that bubbling noise..."  
_

_Tegan sidled up to her and suddenly took on the persona of a shoulder demon pretending to be a shoulder angel. "I dunno," she said innocently. "But I know how to find out. He won't mind, you know how he is."_

Tegan again: I'm not Irony Detecting this time. I just don't want you to get the impression that my preoccupation with avoiding Yana was stopping me from enjoying _everything! _Besides, Martha-baiting is one of my greatest pleasures in life. Although on the whole, Grace is more fun to bait. (See: _Fourteen Hours, _chapter 10, paragraph...end part. Heh heh.)

_"Oh my gosh." Aghast, Martha set the_ _container with the Doctor's hand on the table. "You've got a hand. A hand in a jar. A hand, in a jar, in your bag!"_

_"That's—that's my hand!"_

_"I said I had a Doctor detector."_

_"Chan—is this a tradition amongst your people—tho?"_

_"Not on my street," Martha said, still staring. "What d'you mean that's your hand? You've got both your hands, I can see them."_

_"Long story. I lost my hand Christmas Day. In a swordfight."_

_Tegan and I instinctively paused for the clip of the swordfight against the Sycorax Leader from "The Christmas Invasion"... which sadly never came. _

_What, it was our first episode!_

_"What? And you grew another hand?"_

_"Um, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yeah. Hello." The Doctor waved his fingers._

_"Might I ask what species are you?" Yana asked._

_"Time Lord. Last of. Heard of them?" The Doctor paused for dramatic effect while Chantho and Yana gave him blank looks. "Legend or anything? Not even a myth? Blimey, end of the universe is a bit humbling."_

_Chantho looked sympathetic. "Chan—It is said that I am the last of my species too—tho."_

_"Sorry," the Doctor said, "what was your name?_

_Yana answered for her. "My assistant and good friend, Chantho. A survivor of the Malmooth. This was their planet, Malcassairo, before we took refuge."_

_"The city outside, that was yours?" _

_"Chan—the conglomeration died—tho."_

_I mouthed "conglomeration" along with the Doctor, "Conglomeration! That's what I said!"_

_"You're supposed to say sorry," said Jack._

_"Oh, yes." He took a moment to sober up and look convincing. "Sorry."_

_"Chan—most grateful—tho."_

_Martha kept staring. "You grew...another hand?"_

_I giggled. _

_The Doctor waved his fingers, as did Tegan, so used to the motion. "Hello again. It's fine. Look. Really, it's me." He held out his hand, wiggled his fingers, and shook her hand. _

_She laughed nervously. "All this time and you're still full of surprises."_

_The Doctor clicked his tongue and winked, then looked at Tegan and me. "You two don't seem surprised."  
_

_We looked at each other. It was like he was just being difficult, now. Finally I said, "The hand in a jar tends to make you speechless."  
_

_Tegan nodded vigorously. "Yeah, erm. Ugh."  
_

_Chantho smiled. "Chan—you are most unusual—tho."  
_

_The Doctor smiled back. "We-ell."  
_

_"So what about those things outside?" Jack asked. "The Beastie Boys. What are they?"  
_

_"We call them the Futurekind," Yana explained. "Which is a myth in itself, but, uh, it is feared they are what we will we reach Utopia."  
_

_I wondered if they'd prefer becoming Futurekind to Toclafane.  
_

_"And Utopia is…" The Doctor trailed off.  
_

_"Oh, every human knows of Utopia. Where have you been?"  
_

_"Bit of a hermit."  
_

_"A hermit with friends?"_

_"Hermits United. We meet up every ten years. Swap stories about caves. It's good fun…for a hermit."_

_Yana looked at Tegan and me. "Every ten years? How old were you at the time?"_

_I did some quick math. "Five and six."_

_Yana was shocked. "You were living alone at five and six?"_

_ "Oh, no! We're living with our dad—the Doctor," said Tegan without missing a beat._

(Tegan: Okay, so maybe Doctor-baiting has its perks too.)

_Everybody looked startled, nobody more so than the Doctor. Jack stared at him. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from bursting into laughter._

_The Doctor's glance panned around to Yana again. "So, um, Utopia?"_


	25. Chapter 25

A/N a la Sara: Sorry about the lateness, everybody. Sort of lost track of time. Anyway, here it is!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five

_Yana led us to the chart and spoke about the call across the stars, beyond the Condensate Wilderness. Out towards the wildlands and the dark matter reefs, calling for those scattered across the night. When he said the Utopia Project was thousands of years old, I wondered if we'd just come too late to help. Maybe if the TARDIS hadn't taken us to the end of all things, we could have taken the last of the humans to Utopia. But the Doctor didn't know that yet, and he still had hope. He wanted to look for Utopia as much as they did._

_I was already starting to squirm when Yana's face creased with pain. He closed his eyes, tapping unconsciously. _

"_Professor? Professor?" the Doctor said, trying to get through to him._

"_I—I—Right, that's enough talk. There's work to do. Now if you could leave. Thank you." He walked away, looking flustered, bewildered. Part of me wanted to help him, and the other part of me wondered why. My gut reaction was, _But I like him. _And then I remembered who he was, and my stomach tried to run away._

"_You all right?" asked the Doctor._

No, actually,_ I wanted to say,_ my stomach is running away.

"_Yes. I'm fine! And busy!" Yana called._

_Liar, liar, pants on fire… bow before your Master._

"_Except," the Doctor said, turning a grave gaze on Yana. "That rocket's not going to fly, is it? This footprint mechanism thing, it's not working."_

"_We'll find a way!"_

"_You're stuck on this planet." He looked at Chantho, who was watching the two of them with some confusion. "And you haven't told them, have you? That lot out there, they still think they're gonna fly."_

"_Well, it's better to let them live in hope," Yana said rather fiercely._

_And he'd stay behind to let them. Why is everything so wrong? For the first time, I wished I wasn't with the Doctor to go through it. _

_,.,.,.,.,.,.,._

I felt much the same way, actually. I would've rather been anywhere else. Even in the labyrinth.

There were occasional moments when I would almost enjoy living the episode, but then Yana would have a moment, and I'd be jolted back to reality. There _had _to be something I could do to stop this.

I can't imagine that the Doctor was anything less than ecstatic to hear Yana talking about living in hope, but he hid it well, remaining calm and cool as ever.  
"Quite right, too. And I must say, Professor," he said, taking off his coat and passing it to whoever was nearby. In this case, it was me. "Um, what was it?"

_Not that he'll ever forget after today.  
_  
"Yana."

"Professor Yana. This new science is well beyond me, but all the same, a boost reversal circuit, in any time frame, must be, a circuit which reverses the boost. So, I wonder, what would happen if I did this?"

He picked up the circuit, sonicked it, and switched it on. Red lights flashed and alarms went off, which in this moment, felt like we were all about to explode. Judging by Yana and Chantho's delight, this probably wasn't the case.

"Chan—it's working—tho!"

"But how did you do that?" asked Yana.

"Oh, while we've been chatting away, I forgot to tell you. I'm brilliant."

I smiled briefly, and we sprang into action. The Doctor and Yana paired off at the controls, as did Chantho and Martha, and Grace and I helped Jack throw things across the room to various stations. We also helped drop things and broke a circuit board, which meant that Martha and Chantho had to go out for another one. I suppose they were fated to do that anyway, because Martha talked to Creet in the episode, but it was something like watching Lion King 1 ½.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Atillo's voice rang out over us. "All passengers prepare for immediate boarding. I repeat, all passengers prepare for immediate boarding. Destination: Utopia."

I ignored this, instead concentrating on maintaining our cover around Jack. He kept looking at us suspiciously, as if saying, "I know you're not the Doctor's kids. You're too American and not clever enough."

I saw the Doctor and Yana carrying on their conversation. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I knew well enough. The Doctor fanboys over Yana's resourcefulness, Yana laments the word Professor, the Doctor fanboys some more and figures out that Yana can't leave, etc. I was distracted from my not-exactly eavesdropping by Jack shouting in my ear to hold on to something. He called me "freckles." I nearly smacked him, but was interrupted by Atillo's voice over the intercom. "Professor, tell the Doctor we've found his blue box."

Everybody breathed a sigh of relief except me and Grace, who didn't seem to react at all. I wondered how she could be so… nonchalant about everything. It wasn't like her. The again, I don't suppose I was exactly being myself. The Master's imminence does that to you, I guess.

Jack called the Doctor, who came over to the monitor, Yana on his heels.

"Professor, it's a wild stab in the dark, but I may just have found you a way out."

I couldn't bring myself to look at Yana's expression upon seeing the TARDIS.

The Doctor went out the door and several minutes later, a forklift, or whatever the end of the universe's equivalent would be, deposited the TARDIS in the lab. A few seconds later, the Doctor exited the TARDIS, bringing out a long power line from inside and plugging into a huge olive green outlet.

"Extra power! Little bit of a cheat, but who's counting? Jack, you're in charge of the retro-feeds."

"Right. Tegan, will you help me?" Jack said.

My instinct was to say, "Why are you picking on me?", but Martha and Chantho entered the room with the replacement circuit boards.

"Oh, am I glad to see that thing!" said Martha upon spotting the TARDIS. Chantho barely looked at it, instead noticing Yana looking pale and sitting down.

"Chan—Professor, are you all right—tho?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm fine… I'm fine! Just get on with it."

"Connect those circuits into the spar—same as that last lot. But quicker," said Jack. I felt almost bad about this, but I was somewhat pleased to see Jack shouting at somebody besides me. Sorry, Martha.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll help you with that, Martha," said Grace, sticking her tongue out at Jack. As she turned to follow Martha, she tossed her hair in disdain.

"Teenagers," I said, taking great pleasure in the quizzical look l received from Jack. The feeling faded, however, when I spotted the Doctor going over to Yana, who was still resting. They were close enough that I could hear them this time.

"You don't have to keep working, we can handle it."

"It's just a headache," said Yana. "Just—Just noise inside my head, Doctor. Constant noise inside my head."

"What sort of noise?"

"It's the sound of drums. More and more as though it's getting closer."

"When did it start?"

"Oh, I've had it all my life. Every waking hour. Still, no rest for the wicked." He stood up and went back to work. He looked so weary, I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Here, run this over to Martha," said Jack, passing me some technical gadget which I couldn't even begin to describe. "And no dawdling!"

I raised my eyebrow at him for a second, then put my hands together and bowed low. "Ah, yes, Sahib. My feet are like wings, Sahib."

"Cheeky!" he called after me. "Just like your dad."

I smiled proudly.

"Oi!" called the Doctor.

I arrived with Martha and the others in time to hear Grace saying, "Ga. What if I talked like you? Race."

And my facepalm was epic.

Chantho, of course, merely giggled. "Chan—that would be silly for a human—tho!"

After Martha took the… whatever it was, Jack sent me out to grab two more circuit boards. Having, ahem, "inherited" the Doctor's sense of direction, I got lost.

Luckily, I ran into (quite literally) a nice-looking man with dark hair and green eyes. His face was familiar, but I couldn't place it. We chatted a little about clumsiness, and laughed nervously for a moment in that way you do before becoming the best of friends, and found out that we were both heading for the control room. He told me about how he wanted to be an explorer, and that he and his fiancée were going to explore Utopia together once they got married. I told him that I could never decide what I wanted to be, so I decided to be an actor and do a little bit of everything, but that hadn't worked out – end of the universe and all, so I started traveling. He smiled a heart-melting smile and then told me his name was Jate, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything else.

When we got to the control room, Atillo was trying to get in touch with Yana, who was going in and out of focus on the surprisingly '80's-looking monitor. "Professor, are you getting me?"

"I'm here! We're ready! Now all you need to do is connect the couplings. Then we can launch." His face dissolved into static. Atillo swore, pushed a button a few times hurriedly, and handed a hazmat suit to Jate. "What do they need?" he asked me.

"Two more circuit boards, fast as you can," I said quickly, realizing that I'd wasted a lot of time by getting lost and that Jack would have my head when I got back. Oh yeah, and Yana was about to turn into the Master.

Atillo grabbed the circuit boards, pushed them into my hands, and went back to the monitor. "Are you still there?"

Yana's face reappeared.

"Ah, present and correct. Send your man inside. We'll keep the levels down from here."

"Where the heck is Tegan?" I heard Jack shouting.

"Tell Colonel Klink I'm on my way, just got a bit lost," I said, rolling my eyes.

"She's on her way," said Atillo.

I took one last, long look at Jate, and went on my way, trying and failing to blink back tears.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

_By the time Tegan got back, the radiation levels were going crazy._

_I started to approach her to ask what took her so long, but she blew past me and went to Jack. _

_"What can I do, Jack? Tell me what to do!" Her voice cracked._

_Jack started barking orders at her, and instead of rolling her eyes and cracking wise like she'd been doing, she followed his instructions to the letter, only stopping to wipe her eyes. I thought, _Why is she putting herself through this? She knows how it ends.

_"Come on, comeoncomeon!" She yelled over the alarms._

_Jack put Tegan in charge of what he was doing, and then grabbed hold of two live cables. I ducked for cover._

_"We can jumpstart the override!"_

_"Don't! It's going to flare!"_

_I wasn't surprised to hear Jack's screams, but when I heard another voice underneath his, I had to peek. Over the table I saw Tegan leaning against the machine she'd just been working on. Her hands were covering her face and she was screaming into them. _

_While Martha rushed to Jack and Chantho pushed the cables aside by the tubing, I edged closer to Tegan. She was rocking instead of screaming now, and I felt a little frightened to touch her—but I had to do something. "Tegan, it's me. Are you…" I swallowed and knelt next to her. "What's wrong?" I whispered._

_She swiped her hands through her hair, taking a deep breath. "What?"_

"_What made you do that?" _

_When she looked at me, it was like she'd never had an emotion in her life. I cringed slightly, expecting some kind of harsh answer, but she just shook her head and stood up._

_Martha started mouth-to-mouth._

"_Without the couplings, the engines will never start," Yana moaned. "It was all for nothing!"_

"_Oh, I don't know." The Doctor walked up to Martha and tried to pull her off. "Martha, leave him."_

_She struggled. "You've gotta let me try!"_

"_Come on. Come on." He shook her gently by the shoulders. "Just listen to me. Now leave him alone." He turned. "It strikes me, Professor, you've got a room a man can't enter without dying. Is that correct?"_

_"Yes," said Yana, clearly not understanding._

_"Well." The Doctor glanced down at Jack. There was an awkward pause where I started to wonder if something about the process had gone wrong and—_

_Jack gasped for breath, and I let out a sigh. _You missed your cue there.

_The Doctor removed his glasses. "I've got just the man."_

_Back on track, Jack wondered aloud, "Was someone kissing me?"_

_He and the Doctor promptly scarpered to the control room. We gathered 'round the computer while Martha pressed keys to get the sound to work. "We lost picture when that thing flared up," she said, then projected. "Doctor, are you there?"_

_His voice came through. "Receiving, yeah. He's inside."_

_"And still alive?"_

_"Oh, yes."_

_"But he should evaporate," Yana protested. "What sort of a man is he?"_

_Martha tried to explain. "We've only just met him. The Doctor sort of travels through time and space and picks people up." She stopped, rolling her eyes. "Gosh, I make us sound like stray dogs. Maybe we are."_

'I sneaked into your time and space machine because I love you,'_ I thought in the voice of Doug from UP._

_"He travels in time?" Yana started to turn, distracted, toward the TARDIS. Tegan watched him, expressionless._

_"Don't ask me to explain it. That's a TARDIS." Martha thumbed over her shoulder. "The sports car of time travel, he says."_

_I looked back at the blank computer screen. It was more pleasant than Yana zoning out._

_We listened in through the computer as the Doctor and Jack discussed his immortality. Rose came up, of course, and because I'm a shipper I ate it up. Until, that is, Jack asked, "So… not enough to time for you and her to pop out two daughters?"_

_"Tegan and Garace are…" I could almost imagine the Doctor casting his gaze heavenward in pleading. "…bloody insane. Don't believe a word."_

_Jack seemed, if anything, relieved. "So I don't have to worry about parental guid—" _

_At this point I introduced my head to the keyboard and groaned loudly. "Jaaack. Please _stop_ it." I raised my head and stared at Tegan, who had her back toward the computer and was notably not freaked out. I wanted to remove us from the room and have a long chat about multiple-centuries-old men. And about the Master (who did fit that category) because my emotions had just strapped into a rollercoaster._

_Nothing came through the speaker for thirty more seconds. "Oh, crap, I think I messed up the sound," I said. When we got back online, Jack was saying, "This new regeneration, it's kinda cheeky." I didn't want to know exactly where the conversation had ended up._

_Martha shook her head. "I never understand half the things he says. And most of that I _wish_ I didn't." She turned in the seat and started to see Yana still looking lost. "What's wrong?"_

_Chantho and I joined her and Tegan in looking at Yana. I felt my throat constrict._

_"Chan—Professor, what is it—tho?"_

_"Time travel. They say there was time travel back in the old days."_

_I expected him to sound distant, but although Yana's eyes were faraway, not seeing us, his voice was close. Almost in my ear._

_"I never believed," he said in that flat, too-close voice. "But what would I know? I'm just a stupid old man. Never could keep time. Always late, always lost—"_

_"Well, that's all right; the Doctor's much the same way," Tegan broke in with a huge smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I remember he told this story once about how he was trying to go to 1979, and ended up in 1879. Rather big difference, that."_

_She chuckled slightly, and after a moment, Yana joined her. Hearing Tegan's nervous voice interrupt was like diving into freezing water; I actually gasped for air. Chantho put her hand on my arm, steadying me, but she drew no more attention to me than I already had._

_My eyes darted from Tegan to Yana to Martha. Martha looked confused, as if her subconscious knew that something had gone very wrong. "I never knew that," she said, "although it doesn't surprise me. When did he tell you that?"_

_"When we were going to buy that lollipop," Tegan said, eerily calm. She met my eyes and smiled again, this time just slightly—triumphant._

_I reached out for her, but with my thoughts reeling, my hand closed on air a couple of time before I grabbed her arm. I held on as much to stay on my feet as much as to get her attention._

_"Oi!" The smile dropped off her face. "What, you're hurting me again!"_

"With me. Now,_" I stage-whispered, yanking her to the other side of the room too fast for the other three to react. It should take a lot of skill to drag someone unwilling across all sorts of equipment within a nanosecond, but it took me no more effort than falling with gravity.  
"_What_ do you think you're doing? You crazy—you idiot—"_

_Tegan's face flushed, but not with shame. "I think I'm stopping this!" _

_My eyes widened. "Exactly. Of course you are. You've been trying all along." My fingers dug in tighter. "Stop doing what you're doing. Stop it now." My voice sounded so—cold._

_She fought through a wince. "Grace, didn't you hear me? This doesn't have to happen!_ _None of it! Think of all the lives we saved – all the awful things that are never gonna happen! It might even keep the Doctor from regenerating in 'The End of Time.'" Tegan's large blue eyes pleaded with me. "You know as well as I do how Utopia, the place, ends."_

_I hated myself, every piece of me, down to the bone. "We can't, we can't, we—we—" I tried to catch my breath and gritted my teeth. "It's like—like the Skasis Paradigm. We want to act like goddesses, Tegan, but we're so very human. Please… please don't. You remember Time Lord Victorious. You can't mess with the timelines. We can't _win _against them."_

_Tegan stared hard at me. For a moment, I thought she was going to give in._

_Then she said, "If this were to happen, six million people would die, and the rest enslaved. _Six million_! Entire families just like yours would be slaughtered." Her voice dripped with acid. "Tell _them_ about the timelines." _

_She stepped away from me, and not until she'd divided us did I realize that I'd recoiled and released her arm._

What have we done? _I thought. "The Doctor would never—"_

_"The Doctor," she snapped, "is going to leave the moment Jack's done. Tell Martha we're getting the TARDIS primed to go home." She whirled and stormed out of the room._

"_I'm sure your sister will be back—for what that's worth," Yana said. I didn't want him to be there, obviously, or to correct him. Lose-lose situation._

_I gulped._

"_I've never seen you two argue," Martha said. Her eyes dropped. "Sorry. None of my business."_

"_I'm cold," I said, almost absently, hugging myself. "She's just gone to—to…" I couldn't think of an excuse, not with all of them staring at me. _

_With no lead in, I said, "So, Professor, you have trouble with time?"_

_They looked at each other, and Martha nodded slowly as if to tell them, "So she doesn't want to talk about it. So what? She's a teenager."_

"_Well, yes," Yana said with a slight shrug._

"_Have—Have you considered getting a watch?"_

_He absently stroked his waistcoat pocket. "I have one, but even it never worked." He pulled out the fob watch, his voice edging close again. "Time and time and time again. Always running out on me."_

_Martha's eyes widened. "Can I have a look at that?"_

_"Oh, it's only an old relic." He smiled, sounding normal again. "Like me."_

_"Where did you get it?" Martha asked._

_"Hm?"_

_Her eyes were earnest, intent. He thought about it. "I was found with it."_

_Her eyebrows raised, every part of her showing more and more desperation. "What do you mean?"_

_"An orphan in the storm. I was a naked child found on the coast of the Silver Devastation. Abandoned with only this."_

_I wanted to sag onto the floor. I wanted to run back to the TARDIS. I wanted to go home. Their words pounded over me, and I closed my eyes with the headache of it._

_"Have you opened it?"_

_"Why would I? It's broken."_

_"How do you know it's broken if you never opened it?" Her voice trembled with excitement._

_"It's stuck. It's old. It's not meant to be."_

If only it wasn't.

_"I don't know… Does it matter?"_

"_No. It's…nothing. It's…"_

_I opened my eyes. Martha had the watch in her hand like a treasure, but she forced herself to give it back and stepped away. "Listen, everything's fine up here. I'm gonna see if the Doctor needs me."  
_

_"I'll come too—to—to—make up with Tegan," I blurted._

"_You really don't have to," she said, backing out the door. She was gone in a blink._

_Time was running out. I couldn't stay in the room, couldn't face what I'd done. "I'm sorry," I said to Yana, my vision blurring again. "Chantho, come with me."_

"_Chan—why—tho?" she asked. "Chan—you'll be more comfortable without me, I think—tho."_

_I started to come forward, to take her hands and lead her out the door, but I couldn't force my legs to get any closer to the—Professor. "Please come. You'll see in moment."_

_Chantho looked back at Yana, fingering the watch, and I knew she wouldn't come. My first consequence._

_I ran._


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-seven

_I ran through the abandoned corridors, just managing to keep Martha in sight. When I made it into the control room behind her, Jack was out of the radiation chamber and she was in front of the Doctor. "Doctor, it's the professor. He's got this watch—"_

_"We haven't got time for that!_" _Tegan shouted from behind the Doctor. __"__We__'__ve got to get out now!__"_

_"Don't listen to her," I cut in. My mind raced. She'd screw our cover and tell him everything about the Master and Time would collapse. "You said yourself she's bloody insane."_

_Tegan looked at me as if she'd rather I'd stayed in with Yana and Chantho had left._

_"But he's got a fob watch, same as yours!" Martha jumped in. "Same writing on it. Same… everything."_

_"Don't be ridiculous," the Doctor said, staring at all of us. Who he was addressing is anyone's guess._

_"I asked him," Martha insisted. "He said he's had it all his life."_

_"So he's got the same watch," said Jack over his shoulder._

_"Exactly, what's a watch got to do with anything? I've got a fob watch I got from my brother. So what?" said Tegan all at once. "We need to leave!"_

_"Yeah, but it's not a watch," said Martha with a hint of impatience. "It's this chameleon thing."_

_The Doctor stammered, __"__No, no, no. It__'__s this__…__ This thing, this device, it rewrites biology, changes a Time Lord into a human.__"_

_"And it's the same watch."_

_"It can't be," said the Doctor. An alarm blared, distracting him as he tried to fix it._

_Tegan jumped in again, __"__Then it must not be. If you say it can__'__t be, it must not be. So, let__'__s go!__"_

_"That means he could be a Time Lord," said Jack, thinking about this. "You might not be the last one."_

"Et tu_, Jack?__"__ muttered Tegan._

_"Jack, keep it level!"_

_I let out an, "Argh! Doctor, you're not doing yourself any favors. Just listen to your companion for once!"_

_He Arghed right back. __"__But which one?__"_

_"But if you're not the last—that's brilliant, isn't it?" Martha broke in again._

_"Yes, it is. Course it is. Depends which one. Brilliant, fantastic, yeah," the Doctor gibbered. "But they died, the Time Lords. All of them, they died."_

_"Not if he was human," Jack pointed out._

_"What did he say, Martha?" The Doctor joined in on the yelling. "What did he say?"_

_Martha gasped. __"__He looked at the watch like he could hardly see it. Like that perception filter thing.__"_

_"But he can see it now, Doctor." Tegan finally left the river in Egypt. She pulled on the Doctor's lapels and looked him straight in the eye, begging him to understand her fear. "He can see it now."_

_Atillo's voice came in over the intercom. "13, 12, 11, 10…" The Doctor seemed to remember the countdown._

"_If he escaped the Time War then it__'__s the perfect place to hide. The end of the universe,__"__ Jack said._

"_Think of what the Face of Boe said. His dying words. He said__…"__ Martha trailed off._

_The Doctor launched the rocket, then froze, staring at the letters on the screen, his chest heaving. Just when I was about to scream, __"__Hello?__"__ he yanked on a phone near the controls. __"__Lieutenant, have you achieved velocity? Have you done it? Lieutenant! Have you done it?__"__ He paused. __"__Good luck.__"__ He hung up and bolted from the room. Needless to say, the four of us ran after him._

_The Master had locked the main door. While the Doctor and Jack tried the sonic and the keypad respectively and we all shouted until our voices were hoarse, the power began to fail. When the door finally opened, we only made it down a few halls before we encountered slavering Futurekind. They chased us in directions we__'__d never meant to go. Jack led us at the intersection, but the lab door was, surprisesurprise, also locked. Jack set to work while the Doctor plastered his face to the window, pounded, and shouted at both the nonexistent Professor and Jack to be let in._

"_Please, I need to explain! Whatever you do, don__'__t open that watch!__"_

"_They__'__re coming!__"__ Martha shrieked. I tried to hug Tegan, but she pushed me off, so I just kind of stood there and hopped up and down and hyperventilated like an idiot. The Doctor begged and begged and it all felt so dizzy, not like watching an episode at all._

_Wow. It took me that long to realize how real it was. _

_Jack slammed the butt of his revolver into the keypad, and the door flew open. The Doctor faced him silently at first, neither moving. There was no Yana dichotomy anymore, no way to mistake him for anything but our Lord and Master. Chantho was curled up on the floor. The Doctor advanced on the Master, who backed into the TARDIS and shut us out, holding his wound. The Doctor__'__s key did nothing__—__deadlocked__—__so he tried pounding again, which of course wasn__'__t going to work._

_Martha went to Chantho. __"__She__'__s dead.__"_

_I closed my eyes._

_Jack pressed against the door. __"__I__'__ve broken the lock! Give me a hand!__"__ We ran over to hold it shut._

"_I__'__m begging you! Everything__'__s changed! It__'__s only the two of us! We__'__re the only ones left! Just let me in!__"_

_The Master screamed. I turned my face from the light pouring out the TARDIS windows as the Futurekind began to jar the door. We couldn__'__t close it completely._

"_Doctor! You__'__d better think of something!__"__ Jack tried._

"_Doctor__—__ooh, new voice,__"__ said the Master through the speaker. He played with lows and highs and hellos in the voice that made my skin crawl. __"__Anyway, why don__'__t we stop and have a nice little chat while I tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me? I don__'__t think!__"_

"_Hold on, I know that voice,__"__ Martha said._

_An arm reached through the not-quite-closed door. I shrieked and bashed at it._

"_I__'__m asking you really properly! Just stop! Just think!__"_

"_Use my name.__"_

"_Master.__"__ The Doctor let the sound hang in the air. __"__I__'__m sorry.__"_

"_Tough!__"__ The TARDIS began to VWORP. The Doctor extended the sonic screwdriver._

_More Futurekind arms were reaching around. __"__We can__'__t hold out much longer, Doctor!__"__ Jack called._

"_Oh, no you don__'__t!__"__ said the Master from inside. __"__End of the universe. Have fun. Bye bye!_

"_Doctor, stop him!__"__ Martha yelled._

_There were too many Futurekind to fight off without opening the door and being overrun. Once the TARDIS completely faded away, the Doctor stopped watching and bolted over to us. Martha moved over, trying to make room for him, but he grabbed hold of Jack__'__s vortex manipulator, holding the sonic to it. _

"_Hold still!__ Don__'__t move!__ Hold it still!__"_

"_I__'__m telling you, it__'__s broken!__"__ Jack protested.__"__ It hasn__'__t worked for years!__"_

"_That__'__s because you didn__'__t have me!__ Everyone, grab hold! Now!__"_

_We slapped our hands over the vortex manipulator and whoever was on bottom activated it. The Futurekind rammed the door one last time, and I could still feel the pressure as we were sucked out of the dimension._

_Guess what. It _hurt.


End file.
